1 Eclipse Of The Soul
by SHaria-The Original
Summary: First fic in my series,'The Tenacity of Love', it follows both Harry's & Severus' emotional healing and their relationship as they go from mutual dislike to mutual respect, then friendship and finally love.
1. A Chance Encounter

Eclipse of the Soul _is_ a completed work, but I can only manage to post about one chapter a day (there are about 22 in all). This saga is a Snarry but it takes a little while to get there as I wanted to develop Harry and Severus' relationship as realistically as possible (on the premise that the journey of hatred to love doesn't happen overnight). All rights belong to JKR and the gang. Thank you for stopping by, SHaria.

**A**** Chance**** Encounter**

The din of merriment from the celebration in the Great Hall echoed in the nearby areas of the castle, but on the third floor, at the end of a long corridor, it was blessedly silent.

After having made the mandatory appearance at the Leaving Feast, Severus Snape went to Professor Vector's office to leave a note regarding their planned tandem classes for the following school year.

He finished his note and tossed the quill on the desk, leaned back in the old creaking wooden chair and sighed as he reflected upon the school year that had just come to a close – and what a year it had been, intolerably long and infinitely frustrating.

Snape thought about all that had taken place: the interference by the Ministry and how Dolores Umbridge had wracked havoc upon the lives of the students and Professors but the Fates had taken care of the matron toad, using the Centaurs as their tool to deliver justice. That small victory was sweet and Severus indulged himself with a smirk of satisfaction. But his smile vanished as his thoughts moved onto the other individual who had been visited by the three ladies of destiny, Sirius Black.

That death left Snape at odds. To some degree he felt vindicated for a past injustice but at the same time he felt disquieted. For even though the cruel trick that Black had played on him all those many years ago warranted justice, death seemed to be a rather heavy price to pay.

Snape then considered the fiasco that had just transpired at the Ministry. Potter had raced off like a typical Gryffindor - all courage and no forethought. The mutt had been no better. Both he and his godson, with their foolish recklessness, had played right into the Dark Lord's hand.

The boy had always vexed Snape; even so, the fact that the brat had witnessed this death had left a small bit of pity in the strangled heart of the Potion Master.

His mind moved on to what was undoubtedly the most unbelievable event of all - the possession.

What must it have felt like, Potter's connection to the Dark Lord? And what insights might he have gained? And the fact that he survived intact, of course 'intact' could only be considered in relative terms. Yet still, Snape was greatly intrigued and perhaps a bit envious. If so much enmity didn't exist between him and the boy, he would have entertained the thought of asking the young wizard to describe his impressions and recollections.

The sudden intrusion of voices from the adjoining room disrupted Snape's musings. He recognized the participants in the conversation and closed his eyes in dread. _Dear__Merlin,__not__...__him._

The door that separated the office from the classroom was ajar and Snape pondered what he should do, close it or move closer to get a better look? He settled for staying seated and listened.

"Anyway - it doesn't matter - Sirius won't care if it's unusual, he'll come back, I know he will!

"He will not come back. He will have ... gone on."

"What d'you mean, 'gone on'? Gone on where? Listen - what happens when you die, anyway? Where do you go? Why doesn't everyone come back? Why isn't this place full of ghosts? Why - ?"

"I cannot answer."

"But you're dead, aren't you? Who can answer better than you?"

"I was afraid of death," said Nick. "I chose to remain behind. I know nothing of the secrets of death, Harry, for I chose my feeble imitation of life instead. I believe learned wizards study the matter in the Department of Mysteries …"

"Don't talk to me about that place!"

"I am sorry not to have been more help. Well ... do excuse me ... the feast, you know..." **

Snape closed his eyes and wished he'd not heard this conversation. The timbre of the dialog and the desperation in Potter's voice had disrupted the quiet placidity of his previous musings. Even so, the intensity between the young wizard and the ghost sparked the spy's curiosity, so he stood and moved silently toward the door.

The unnerving sight that greeted him convinced Snape that he should have stayed seated at the desk.

Potter stood motionless on the opposite side of the room as he stared fixedly at the place in the wall through which Nick must have just disappeared. His obvious devastation was displayed with blatant clarity in the look on his face. After a moment, his entire frame began to shake as he succumbed to his grief and sank to his knees.

"Sirius, I'm so sorry," the boy cried out. "I never should have ..." He tried again, "It was all my fault that …" Harry's sobs made it nearly impossible for him to speak.

He cried for the longest time. At one point, he reached out his hand to better support himself as he trembled with grief but the instant he touched the classroom wall, the castle began to shake.

Snape's eyes widened with astonishment that a mere touch from Potter's hand could cause Hogwarts to shake on its very foundation. But even more remarkable was the casual manner in which the boy withdrew his hand to end to the tremors, as if this were an everyday occurrence.

Harry continued his mournful lament for Sirius: apologizing, expressing all they could have shared, and giving voice to all the 'what ifs'.

Eventually his crying ceased and, after what seemed like an eternity to Snape, he stood and made his way to the classroom door, wiped away his tears and assumed a determined expression.

The classroom had been his only private place to mourn, to be just Harry, who missed his Godfather terribly and berated himself for the horrible mistake he'd made. But now he had to lay down his anguish, leave his humble sanctum and return to the school, return to being the 'Boy Who Lived'.

Harry wrenched open the door, squared his shoulders and quickly departed the classroom.

Snape stood in place as he stared across the now empty classroom.

For some reason, this incident disturbed him more than he cared to acknowledge. He had always assumed that the smug expression Harry wore was one of defiance, but he had been wrong. He now understood that it was a shield, a barrier of sorts, worn like a suit of armor to protect what was apparently a vulnerable and injured young man.

And as Snape stared at the now empty room, memories of his own childhood and of someone very dear to him started to surface in his mind. He hadn't thought of Rosa in many years and the emerging image of her face caused him to tremble.

"No!" he called out. "I will not think about these things!"

He pushed the unwanted memories and awareness back down to that little dark corner of his soul, where he had kept it buried for a long, long time. Then, after a few steadying breaths, Severus walked out into the empty classroom and gazed at the spot where Harry and the ghost had been.

For all his years of spying, the conversation between this teenager and ghost had unsettled him, far more so than any interaction with his fellow Death Eaters or even the Dark Lord himself.

Author's notes:

***Direct quote from pages 861-862 of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (American edition).


	2. Waning

**2. Waning**

_Harry stood on the floor of the death chamber__. He __look__ed__ up at the dais__ and began to __move hesitantly forward through still__,__ suffocating air__. Each __step__ he__ took __brought h__im__ upward __and closer __toward the stone archway__;__ its veil fluttered gently despite the stillness. In front of the veil stood Sirius__ and he watched h__is god__son __ma__k__e his way toward him.__ When they came__ face to face, the two men stood and gazed__ silently__ upon each other. Then Harry __lifted __his hand__ until __it came to rest flat against Sirius's chest. The older man__ grew fearful as he__ stared __into green eyes __that were __full of sadness and regret. Harry shook his head __in defeat__ as he leaned forward and pushed Sirius backward into the veil__._

Harry awoke with a start and sat up abruptly. He was covered in a cold sweat and began to take in deep, steadied breaths in an attempt to recover from his latest nightmare.

It had been another miserable night; a miserable night that had followed yet another miserable day. And now, another miserable morning greeted him with the familiar pounding in his head and stinging of his scar.

He had lost count by now: lost count of the days, the nights, the headaches and the nightmares.

He lay back down and pulled the covers closely around him, trying to offset the cold that seemed to permeate every part of him and replayed the scene from his nightmare over and over again, watching as _Nightmare Harry_ pushed Sirius into the veil and into death.

Familiar tears began to slide down his cheeks as Harry's thoughts moved from the nightmare to his conversation with Nearly Headless Nick the night of the Leaving Feast, and then to his breakdown just after the ghost had left the classroom.

His intense grief had overwhelmed him; it had sapped his strength and left him sobbing. He eventually managed to rein in all those emotions and then he pushed them down deep, where they needed to be and where they had to stay.

Ever since that night, Harry had managed to keep his sobs under control. Yet despite all his determination, the irrepressible tears had taken on a life of their own. They would start up without warning and slide silently down his cheeks, betraying his resolve. But if their presence was what it took for him to avoid the wrenching sobs, he'd take it.

It was just after dawn and the house on Privet Drive was still quiet.

Sick of lying there thinking of Sirius, sick of his head aching, sick of everything and everyone, Harry quietly dragged himself out of bed. He pulled on the clothes he had worn for — how many days now? It didn't matter.

He padded downstairs to the kitchen; prepared breakfast for the Dursleys and was then out the back door by the time they started to stir.

This had become his routine since returning to Surrey that summer.

His uncle, livid and agitated after the warning delivered to him at King's Cross, decreed that Harry was to "stay out of sight for the entire summer, or there would be hell to pay", and then proceeded to give him a taste of what that 'hell' would be. The bruises had not yet faded from his Uncle's demonstration.

Of course, he was to complete his many chores, the "means for earning his keep". No matter how fast he worked, it was always afternoon before he could finish all that his Aunt had assigned him for the day, and by then his room was like an oven.

So Harry would leave the house to wander during the heat of the day. He never wandered far, as he had to stay within the security wards, but at day's end he would slip quietly back into the house and retire to his hot room.

Harry sat in the garden shed, half-heartedly munching on a piece of toast while his _family_ finished their breakfast.

And as he ate, he sat and listened to the voice in his head, scolding him for getting friends injured and his godfather killed. Bit by bit, that incessant voice wore at Harry's spirit. The guilt robbed him of appetite, just as the wanderings and chores chipped away at his already slim frame. The sleepless nights, the headaches and the nightmares were also claiming their toll.

The descent into the miasma of his depression was slow and specious. The days following the disaster at the Ministry and the Headmaster's revelation of the prophecy; Harry had been in shock, and those first few days in Surrey he had walked around in a daze.

As he went through his daily routine of chores and walks, Harry had only his inner voice with which to process all that had happened: the loss of Sirius, his injured friends, Voldemort taking possession of him and being inside him, his mind and his very soul.

Just thinking of that experience made him nauseated. But as horrible as that experience had been and as awful as was the prospect of never seeing his godfather again, there was one glaring truth that threatened to crush Harry - the fact that everything that had taken place had all happened because of his terrible mistake in judgment.

It nearly killed him every time he thought of this fact, but he couldn't stop himself from doing it.

Over and over again, the voice in his head would chastise him. _It's your own stupid fault__.__Y__ou did this to him__.__Y__ou hurt your friends__.__Y__ou deserve to be alone and miserable_.

It wasn't long before Harry completely agreed with this reprimanding voice, and he felt that this place where his mind and body were, this state of misery somehow felt right — sad, but right.

He was so miserable and depressed that at times he thought about ending everything. A couple of times he'd even gone to sit by the tracks and watch the commuter train barrel on by.

_It would be so easy to step up onto the tracks just in front of the train_. But he knew he couldn't do it; not that he didn't want to, but because he had to live to defeat Voldemort.

_Maybe I'll get lucky and die at the same time Voldemort dies_. That convoluted thought was the only thing that brought a smile to his face these days. He held onto the idea that when and if he could bring down Voldemort, then hopefully his life would also end, justice would be served and he would join his Mother, Father and Sirius.

Ron and Hermione sent their letters as promised, but his guilt about their near deaths precluded him from reaching out to them. Remus hadn't written and Harry believed that Remus probably held him responsible for what had happened to Sirius.

Harry sent off his required letters every three days, always stating the same platitudes — that he was fine and such. He really didn't want any of them coming to check up on him. He was content living in his realm of isolation and sadness. He just knew that this was where he should be.

~~~SH~~~

Returning to his dark, stifling hot bedroom late the Saturday night preceding his sixteenth birthday, Harry noticed an envelope lying upon his nightstand patiently waiting his attention. Picking up the missive, he tore back the flap, pulled out the letter and began to read.

_Hey Harry, _

_You know what today is? It's the last time you'll ever be fifeen years old on a Friday. We're all set for your big sixteenth birthday party. Four more days, I can hardly wait. Mum's going to bake the biggest cake, and Fred and George made some special fireworks (don't tell them I told you, it's supposed to be a surprise!) It's going to be a blast. Anyway, Dad will fetch you the night before your birthday. He says for you to make sure you're all packed and ready to go when he gets there. No worries mate, he knows not to use the Floo now. He's going to Apparate over, and then Side-Along you back here. Know what else, Harry? Dumbledore said you could stay here the rest of the summer! Isn't that great? We can fly everyday and throw gnomes at Ginny. We're gonna have so much fun. _

_I can't wait to see you, _

_Ron_

Harry stood frozen as he stared at the letter. No matter how long he looked at the writing, the words all remained the same, nothing changed.

_What am I going to do?_

He'd completely forgotten about this planned party and he definitely didn't want to celebrate his birthday, knowing that Sirius would have no more.

He decided then and there that he wouldn't go; that he'd stay in Little Whinging, away from the Burrow and well away from the Weasleys.

He sighed and walked over to the open window. Hedwig, who spent most her time outside because of the heat, had not yet returned from the night's hunting. Alone as usual, Harry was left with only his inner voice to process this latest dilemma.

~~~SH~~~

Early the following morning, up in his bedroom at the Burrow, Ron was pulling on a pair of shorts when Hedwig swooped in through his open window. He nearly toppled over when she landed decidedly upon his shoulder.

"Hedwig, you bloody bird; you almost gave me a heart-attack!"

Not one to be deterred from her duty, let alone be chastised by this redhead, Hedwig responded by firmly shoving Harry's letter right under Ron's nose.

"All right, all right already. You don't have to be so pushy."

Relieved of her parcel, the snowy owl flew over to sit on the window sill and set her gaze to stare intently at Ron.

"Look, I'm opening it already. See?"

Satisfied, Hedwig hooted her farewell and took off without any further delay. If there had been any possibility of success, she would have grabbed a hold of Ron and brought him with her. She was so worried about her Harry. The best she could do was to get back as soon as possible, and keep an eye on him.

"That bloody bird is insane," Ron muttered to himself as he tore open the envelope and pulled out Harry's letter.

_Hi there Ron, _

_Say, thanks for the invitation but I've got a bugger of a cold. I've had it for weeks. You lot don't want to catch this, so I think I'll just stay here until it's time for school to start. Don't worry about me. Aunt Petunia's been great. I'm just going to rest up until September 1st. See you at King's Cross._

_Harry_

Ron stared dumbfounded at the letter. Harry? Not want to celebrate his birthday for once in his life? Not want to come to the Burrow for the rest of the summer? His aunt being nice?

He knew something was wrong and so jumped into action.

He raced out of his room, bounded down the stairs slid into the kitchen in two shakes time. He knew that his dad had been called into work this Saturday and Ron wanted to be sure to catch him before he left.

"Oi Dad, hold up!"

"Ronald Weasley!" his mother bellowed. "How many times have I told you not to run through the house!"

"Sorry Mum, but I had to catch Dad before he left." Turning, Ron held out the letter. "Dad, look at this. Go on, read it!"

Arthur took the proffered letter and sat down. With Molly peering over his shoulder, they both read Harry's letter. "Molly, what do you think about this?"

"He's lying, or trying to hide something." She took the letter from Arthur and scanned it again. "I don't like it Arthur. Harry would never not want to come here. And his aunt … I ask you, when has that woman ever shown him an ounce of kindness?" She sat down next to him. "I think you'd better go and check on him. Something is wrong ... I just feel it."

"But I was supposed to go into work today."

"Arthur, this is Harry we're talking about. The Ministry can wait."

Arthur toyed with his lower lip while thinking things over. "You're right, of course. I'll just Floo-call Perkins and tell him I can't make it in today. Then I'll check with Albus to make certain it's all right for me to go check on Harry."

After Arthur called Perkins, he then Floo-called the Headmaster and everyone in the kitchen listened with anticipation as Dumbledore answered.

"Albus, I apologize for disturbing you so early, but may I pop over and have a word with you?"

"Of course Arthur. Is everything all right?"

"Well, yes and no. We're all fine here. It's Harry, we're worried about him."

There was a long silent pause. "What's wrong?"

"I'll show you when I get there. May I come through?

"Of course Arthur, come right through."

~~~SH~~~

Albus Dumbledore stood expectantly beside his desk. When Arthur Floo'd in he immediately asked, "So what is all this about Harry? Last we spoke, you were to fetch him the night before his birthday."

Arthur reached into the pocket of his robe, removed Harry's letter and held it out towards Dumbledore. "This is the reason. It's a letter from Harry. Ron had written to him regarding the upcoming party and Harry's coming to stay at the Burrow. This was his response."

Dumbledore read Harry's words declining the invitation. "Well, certainly this is odd. He hasn't mentioned in any of his letters that he was ill. Additionally, the reports from the Aurors guarding his neighborhood haven't noted that anything was amiss. Has he made reference to illness in any of his previous missives to your family?"

"No, he hasn't. All he ever says is that he's fine. That's about it."

Dumbledore sighed. "Curious."

"Yes it is. Albus, I... Well we... That is to say Molly, the children and I think something must be wrong. Harry has never not wanted to come to the Burrow; so I was wondering if I could go check on him today, perhaps I could even bring him back with me to the Burrow? It's only a few days earlier then we had originally planned."

"I suppose it would be all right," he mused and then nodded decidedly. "Yes Arthur, of course. Perhaps Madame Pomfrey should accompany you."

"Oh, no. I honestly don't believe Harry is actually ill. I think it best if I just go alone and talk to him, if he'll oblige me."

"Very well, but please update me with your findings."

"I will Albus, of course."

~~~SH~~~

By mid-morning the air was stifling with summer heat as Arthur Apparated to the perimeter of the wards. He covertly acknowledged the Auror stationed at this particular location and then proceeded toward Privet Drive and eventually made his way to number four. When he finally arrived at the front door, he looked around for what should be the door bell.

Mortified over the fiasco that had transpired when he had come to fetch Harry for the Quidditch finals, Arthur vehemently addressed his rusty knowledge of Muggle studies to assure nothing of the sort ever occurred in the future. Recalling the diagram from his Muggle Studies book, Arthur spotted a round button beside the door.

_Th__at__ must be the doorbell_, he thought and with a giddy sense of anticipation, Arthur pushed on the round button in question. Low and behold, a chime could be heard from within the house. His eyes grew wide with wonder. "It worked!"

Now for the next part. Thinking that this would be infinitely more challenging than the doorbell, Arthur waited for Harry or one of his relatives to open the door, but nothing happened so he tried again. Sure enough, when he pushed the button, the chime sounded once more inside the house but still, no one came to the door.

There was however an odd sound emanating from the rear of the house, so he decided to walk along the side path which led toward the rear of the property. When he reached its end, Arthur came to an abrupt halt as he took in the unbelievable sight before him.

There was Harry. He was pushing some sort of contraption along the grass, presently heading in the direction opposite from where Arthur stood. If it hadn't been for what else greeted his eyes, Arthur would have been giddy with curiosity for the odd device. But sadly, Harry had taken off his shirt, no doubt because of the heat, and quite visible was the fact that the teen had lost a significant amount of weight. Indeed, if Arthur had wanted, he could have easily counted every one of Harry's ribs.

When he reached the edge of the grass, Harry turned the lawn mower around to make his next pass. About halfway across the yard, he glanced up and froze.

For a few moments, both Harry and Arthur just stood and stared at each other. Then, ever so slowly, Arthur walked toward the young man and as his approach brought him closer, he could now easily see every blatant, protruding rib and what appeared to be an assortment of both fresh and fading bruises.

"Mr. Weasley! What...What are you doing here?" Harry could barely get the words out for shock and embarrassment.

Arthur took in the dark circles under Harry's eyes and it was quite apparent that he had recently been crying. Obviously, all was not well with Harry Potter.

Arthur's chest tightened as a wave of guilt washed over him. He should have listened to Ron and Ginny when they insisted that Harry come to them earlier that month. Just as his children had foreseen, Harry was not coping well with the loss of Sirius.

The lack of response prompted Harry to repeat his inquiry. "Mr. Weasley?"

"Is there a place where you and I could talk? Just talk for a bit?"

Talking to Mr. Weasley was definitely something Harry did not want to do. "Um ... I don't know if that's such a good idea Mr. Weasley. I really need to finish my chores, and ..."

"Why don't you let me worry about that, all right? Arthur placed a gentle hand on the teenager's bony shoulder. "Please Harry, can't we just talk?"

The arrival of Mr. Weasley was so unexpected; Harry was caught completely off guard. He had to think of some sort of excuse, fast. "I really don't have time. Perhaps if you came later and ..."

Arthur interrupted again. "I am not going to leave, not until you and I have a talk."

Harry's resolve was weakening. This was simply too much. As long as no one showed him any sort of affection, affection that he wholeheartedly believed he did not deserve, as long as he was isolated in this way, he could handle his despair. This kindness being offered by Mr. Weasley upset Harry's delicate balance of reason and emotion.

Not able to look the older man in the eyes, Harry looked down at his trainers and tried again. "Mr. Weasley, can't you just ... just go ... please?"

"No, I'm sorry. I am not leaving until we talk." Thinking that perhaps an indirect approach might work better than this stand-off, Arthur offered a diversion. "Tell me. Exactly what chores do you need to finish? The lawn? Yes, yes of course."

Arthur pulled out his wand and performed a simple charm to finish the cutting of the lawn. "There, that's done. Now, what else is on your agenda for the day?"

"Um ... I'm supposed to wash the outside of all the windows."

Another wave of the wand with a spoken charm and all the windows were clean, outside and inside. "And?"

"Nothing. That was it."

"Good. Now, where can we go and talk?"

Exasperated by Mr. Weasley's persistence, Harry simply sighed then went to turn the lawnmower around. "I need to put this away first."

"Splendid! Where do you store this magnificent contraption when it is not in use?"

Harry was taken aback. "What are you talking about? What..." Comprehension dawning, "Oh, you mean the lawn mower?"

"Is that what it is called?" Fascinating!"

Harry shook his head and pushed the lawnmower back into the garden shed. When he turned around, he was greeted by the sight of Arthur Weasley sitting on a half barrel next to the doorway.

Despite his smile and kind expression, Mr. Weasley might as well have been Aragog guarding Harry's exit from the cave of Acromantulas. After a moment of quiet desperation, the teen surrendered and sagged down upon a nearby stack of bagged fertilizer.

"Now what is all this nonsense about having a cold and not coming to the Burrow?"

How in Merlin's name could Harry verbalize all the thoughts spinning around in his head: that he didn't want to place any of the Weasleys in more danger, that he was ashamed with himself and regretted all the havoc he had caused everyone already, that he was worthless and didn't deserve to be loved, that…

"Harry?"

Startled from his personal diatribe, Harry decided it would be impossible to convey all this misery he was carrying around; so instead, he settled for something short and direct. "Mr. Weasley, I just think it would be better if I stayed here."

"Better for whom? Certainly not us, we all miss you and want you to come stay with us. So you must be speaking of yourself. Why would it be better for you to stay here?"

Unfortunately, Harry's scar chose that exact moment to jab him with a particularly burning sting. He grimaced and slapped a hand to his scar.

Mr. Weasley moved to his side instantly. "You're in pain. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing Mr. Weasley; just my stupid scar." After a few moments, Harry decided to try and explain.

"Look Mr. Weasley, I feel really bad about what happened to Ron and Ginny. So many people were hurt because of me; I just feel like I should stay away, before anyone else gets hurt or d…" The remainder of his sentence caught in his throat, and all that he could manage to do was bury his face in his hands.

Harry's words and actions confirmed Arthur's suspicions. Without preamble, the kind wizard wrapped Harry up in a strong embrace.

Hobbled by his guilt, Harry found it difficult to accept this offering of love. He tried to pull away, but Mr. Weasley wouldn't let go. "Please don't. I…"

Arthur held on with determination and cut off Harry's plea. "I know you are upset, but cutting yourself off from everyone that loves you is wrong. We were wrong to leave you here alone after everything that happened. We love you son, and we are worried for you. We all want you to come home. Please, come with me to the Burrow."

As Arthur spoke, Harry's resolve to hold back his tears broke and he released the grief he had held within for so long. Arthur continued to hold onto the young man as he cried, occasionally whispering words of support. Eventually, when Harry had cried himself out, Arthur pulled back just far enough to look upon the tear stained face.

"Now you listen to me Harry James Potter; I refuse to leave you here. You and I are going to pack your things and then you are coming with me to the Burrow today. That is final!"

It took a few minutes for Harry to dry his tears and pull himself together. After he calmed down, they headed toward the house to collect his things.

"Let's see," began Arthur, "first we'll pack your belongings and then…"

Harry interrupted, "Mr. Weasley, I … Well I really don't have anything to pack. You see, my uncle …" He looked down with embarrassment. "My uncle locked my trunk away when I got here. Everything I own is in it, except for Hedwig; her cage is in my room."

Arthur may have been meager in funds, but he was bountiful with discernment. Realizing the magnitude and implications packed within that one humble sentence, Arthur asked with infinite gentleness, the whereabouts of the trunk.

This was all so mortifying, but Harry couldn't see that he had any choice in the matter. "I'll show you, but we need to hurry."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you later. Okay? Let's just get my stuff and go."

They entered the house and Harry led Arthur to the locked cupboard under the stairs. "It's in there."

Arthur stared at the small door, then to Harry and then back to the cupboard door. "Ron mentioned something about your room being a cupboard under the stairs; I always assumed it to be a sort of storage room."

"No, this is it. Can we please just hurry?"

Arthur pointed his wand at the cupboard door. "Alohomora." The door opened and the redhead leaned forward to look inside the tiny area. Deciding it best not to say anything just then, he shrunk Harry's trunk and placed it in his pocket.

"All right Harry, let's go get Hedwig."

As the Weasley patriarch followed the young man up the stairs and then watched as he called his owl to him from a nearby tree, questions began to rack his brain: Harry being kept in that tiny hole in the wall? The stifling hot bedroom? The weight loss and bruises? No one helping the poor boy to deal with his grief? How could Albus have allowed this to go on?

"Okay Mr. Weasley. She's on her way to the Burrow. If you could just shrink her cage, we can go. I don't have anything else."

That being done, the two wizards headed toward the stairway, but sounds from below caused Harry to stop in his tracks and cringe. "Oh, no." He muttered under his breath.

The Dursleys had just returned from their trip to the grocers; they entered through the front door but stopped when they saw Harry.

"Boy? What are you doing inside? You know you're not allowed ..." Just then, Vernon Dursley spotted Arthur standing behind his nephew. "What are you doing here? I will not have freaks in my home. One is bad enough!"

Harry's uncle marched up the stairs to continue his verbal attack, while Petunia stood with her mouth agape, by the doorway. Dudley headed toward the kitchen for cover.

"Uncle Vernon, please! We were just leaving! Mr. Weasley is taking me ..."

"I did not give you permission to speak to me, Boy!"

"Now see here Dursley," interjected Arthur. "Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?"

The dressing down at King's Cross still fresh in his mind, Dursley countered with a vengeance. "I will not be told what to think, or how to speak in my own home!"

With all of the shouting taking place, and his purple-faced uncle getting closer and closer; Harry began to panic. As he did, his magic started to swirl and the windows began to crack, the sounds of which could be heard all throughout the house.

Vernon Dursley turned and watched as window after window cracked before his eyes.

"What have you done? You ... freak!" Irate, he moved to shove his nephew, but inadvertently pushed with much more force than intended and Harry was sent flying headfirst down the flight of stairs.

Petunia Dursley's shrill scream pierced the air as she watched her nephew's head slam into the wall at the base of the stairs.

~~~SH~~~


	3. Retrospect

**3. Retrospect**

The sound of his footsteps echoed up the empty stairwell as Snape made his way to the third floor.

Only two days prior, he'd been surrounded by his cherished roses and the beautiful countryside of the Alta Marema. Now he was here, after what was an all too brief vacation, within the cold stone walls of the castle and as he trudged up the stairs he contemplated how the echoes of his footsteps mirrored those of his memories of his home and life in Tuscany.

He had barely settled in when Madame Pomfrey suggested that they meet in order to review the supply levels for the necessary potions in the infirmary. With the start of the new school term barely one month away, she was anxious to begin her preparations.

As he neared the hospital wing, he could sense that something was amiss. The castle was nearly empty, so any activity was unexpected. But when he entered the infirmary, he saw a scene of focused endeavors and distressed voices.

_Dear__ Merlin,__ now__ what?_ He'd barely taken in the scene of Poppy fervently working on someone, when a voice called out to him from the Mediwitch's office.

"Severus, what fortuitous timing." The Headmaster beckoned to him from the doorway to Poppy's office. "Please, your services are greatly needed."

Snape walked over and saw an obviously distressed Arthur Weasley speaking to his wife through the Floo; his panicked voice filled the background.

Up went an eyebrow as Snape looked to Dumbledore for an explanation.

"An altercation took place today at the Dursley's," Albus explained.

"Potter's relatives?"

"Yes. During the excitement, Harry was injured and Arthur inadvertently ..." Dumbledore shrugged uncharacteristically, "… hexed them."

The second eyebrow elevated to join the first, this time in shock. "Arthur Weasley? Hexed a family of Muggles?" If the situation hadn't been so delicate, Snape would have found it laughable.

"Please Severus, Arthur is distraught, not to mention the possible ramifications with the Ministry. We need your help. Please go to the Dursley's and … well, take care of things as quickly as possible."

Both eyebrows quickly returned to their former position and the blank expression, honed to perfection, schooled itself upon the potion master's face. "Of course Albus, whatever you require. To be certain I understand your request, you wish for me to enter the home of Mr. Potter's relatives, release them of the current spells cast upon them by Arthur and then, I would assume, Obliviate them."

The blue eyes held no twinkle this day. "Yes."

Snape kept his personal reaction to this request veiled behind his mask of indifference. "Very well, I will take care of matters."

As Snape moved to exit the office, Arthur stepped quickly to intercede. "Severus, thank you so much for doing this. I don't know what came over me. Everything happened so quickly, I..."

Having heard enough, the seasoned operative interrupted Mr. Weasley's unsought explanation. "There is no need for you to vindicate yourself to me, Arthur. Now if you will, I believe haste is paramount."

"You're right, of course. But, please accept my gratitude."

Snape offered a slight bow of the head in acknowledgement, then turned and left the office.

_No __doubt__ this __is__ some __form __of__ penance __for __past __sins._ Snape thought as he marched toward the Headmaster's office barely able to contain his annoyance. Not only was he still unsettled over having just left his home only to return to the dungeons of Hogwarts, he now had to race off and deal with an exceedingly unpleasant task involving Potter's relatives. It was bad enough that he had to tolerate the imp in his classroom, but now this! Having to enter the house of the pampered little prince, contend with his hero-worshiping family, all because of Arthur's overblown reaction to what was no doubt, some triviality.

~~~SH~~~~

Snape floo'd from Dumbledore's office to Arabela Figg's home in Little Whinging and barely acknowledged the Squib as he headed toward her front door.

"Professor Snape, how is Harry?"

Surprised at the question, Snape turned toward the old squib. Truth be told, it hadn't even occurred to him to inquire about Potter's injuries. "I am quite certain Madame Pomfrey has matters well in hand."

"Oh, of course Professor," cowered the old Squib, intimidated by his mere presence and curt retort.

Wishing to complete his assigned burden as quickly as possible, Snape offered Mrs. Figg a brief nod, cast a Disillusionment Charm upon himself and exited the house.

~~~SH~~~

He crossed Privet Drive and as he neared the house, he noticed that most of the windows had cracks running throughout the glass. With his wand at the ready, Snape quietly slipped into the house via the back door.

What greeted him was the sight of a rather large young Muggle, lying on the kitchen floor. Weasley had obviously used a sticking charm to adhere the youth to the tiles. Completely engulfing the boy's face was an enormous Bat Bogey. Assessing that this Muggle was in no immediate danger, he left the young man in his odd predicament and continued his survey of the house.

He left the kitchen and entered a hallway. Lying on the floor at the opposite end was no doubt Petunia Dursley, apparently suffering from the same hexes as the young man in the kitchen.

As Snape moved down the hallway, the sight of a small cupboard door caught his eye. He paused and looked at it.

He had seen this door before, but where? He stood unmoving and simply stared at it, then after a few moments he grasped the small handle and yanked it open.

Alien memories, previously banished to the outskirts of his mind, surfaced now with a vengeance, overwhelming feelings of isolation and fear, want and need.

"Arrrgh," Snape growled as these feelings and memories, Potter's memories, threatened to overwhelm him.

He slammed the door shut and forced the invasive emotions from him. He now recalled where it was he'd seen that small dark space - Potter's Occlumency lessons.

Snape had assumed them to be no more than remnants from a bad dream, but apparently these were not merely dream images, but were indeed memories of actual occurrences. This cupboard under the stairs was real, and Severus Snape now realized with unwanted clarity, the tremendous emotional trauma it held for Harry Potter.

He backed away and turned to face Petunia Dursley and then, with a wave of his wand, he released the Disillusionment Charm.

Petunia, who had seen the cupboard door open and close, apparently of its own accord, now panicked at the sudden appearance of Snape. Even though she recognized him as a childhood friend of Lily's, the dark look upon his face threatened to scare the very life from her.

Snape walked slowly walked toward her and saw her panicked eyes stare at him from around the perimeter of the bat sized bogey. Her body, as was the case of her son, was also stuck to the floor and the bogey, covering the majority of her face, prevented communication.

He stood in silence and stared down at this woman, Lily's sister, and wondered what in Merlin's name had been going on in this house.

What had he just experienced over there by the small cupboard? The images and emotions he saw and felt made absolutely no sense to him. Potter was a pampered brat, not an abused waif.

Snape shook his head in an attempt to clear away the questioning voice. This wasn't why he'd come to this despicable house. Besides, why should he even concern himself? He cared nothing for Potter. Yet, he was intrigued. His curiosity grew and prodded him on until he reached the point where he simply had to know.

Snape hesitated, but then pointed his wand squarely at the woman. "Legilimens."

He felt her hatred, disgust and jealousy, witnessed the years of favoritism and intentional neglect. On and on the impressions and feelings flew at him, memories of what were, in her opinion, years of injustice. Snape realized that to this woman and her family, Harry was unwanted; he was nothing more than an imposition and an enormous source of annoyance.

"Finite."

The tall wizard stood stock still. Beyond shock, he was flabbergasted at the realization that Lily's sister loathed her nephew. Of course Potter was a nuisance, but to treat a small child in such a manner? It was incomprehensible. He didn't have time just then to process all he had learned, nor was this the place to contemplate such a disturbing revelation, so he steeled himself to return to his task and continue the survey of the house.

But when he turned to face the staircase, Snape gasped. There, splattered upon the wall at the base of the stairs was what could only be Potter's blood. "Dear Merlin," he muttered. _No __wonder__ the __squib__ inquired__ as __to __Potter's__ welfare._

He moved past the blood splattered wall and ascended the staircase. There on the top landing, lay the massive form of Potter's uncle, also stuck to the floor with an equally massive Bogey covering his face.

Now with all the family members accounted for, Snape proceeded to survey the remainder of the upstairs. His search was uneventful until he reached the last door. Here again was another door that beckoned its story to be told.

He opened the lock ridden, animal flap enhanced door and stepped into a stifling hot, dreary little bedroom. He noted the small cot-like bed, the broken furniture and remnants of metal bars at the window. The only statement of individuality was the small Gryffindor banner and a hand drawn pencil rendition — of a Snowy Owl.

Snape allowed himself only a few moments of stunned realization, a brief acknowledgement of regret and shame.

He made short work of rectifying the evidence of Arthur Weasley's anger: Severus removed the hexes, Stunned and Obliviated each of Potter's relatives, then levitated the uncle to an upstairs bed, the aunt to the living-room couch and the youth to a kitchen chair, so that when they awoke, each would think they had merely dozed off.

Finally, Snape moved to the base of the staircase.

"Evanesco." Potter's blood disappeared from the wall.

"Reparo." All the cracked windows were magically repaired.

His task complete, Severus sighed and then departed number four Privet Drive.

~~~SH~~~

As midnight approached, Dumbledore paced anxiously in his office waiting for Snape's return. Finally, the flames flared green and the younger wizard stepped from the Floo.

The two men stood and stared at each other, not knowing what to say or where to begin. It had been a long and trying day. Both were exhausted, their minds full of thoughts that needed to be processed and questions that needed answers.

It was Snape who broke the silence. "The situation with the Dursleys has been rectified. They will remember nothing of what occurred this day with regards to Potter ... or Arthur."

Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you Severus. Please, sit down and relax. You look as if you could use a drink. I know I do."

Dumbledore walked over to a small side table and reached for the crystal decanter that housed a very old, very strong yet infinitely smooth Cognac. He poured the precious liquid into two large snifters then went to join Snape who was now seated in front of the large fireplace.

They sat for a long while in silence, sipping their drinks, allowing the Cognac to ease their frazzled nerves and numb their cold self-disgust.

Severus stared at the snifter he held in his hand and watched as the prisms of light from the fire danced between the cut edges of the crystal. "Albus, to what degree are you aware of Potter's living conditions?"

The old wizard stared into his own glass and let out a deep sigh. "Apparently, not enough. That fact was made blatantly clear to me today."

Snape lifted his gaze and pinned his old mentor with a pertinacious stare. How could someone he had always admired, someone he had sacrificed a vast portion of his life in order to serve, someone he respected more than any other person known to him — how in the world could Albus Dumbledore have been so negligent with regards to Potter? Snape wanted answers, and he would wait all night for Dumbledore to provide them.

The old wizard continued to stare at his drink as he finally voiced his failure. "I have no excuses; the fault is mine and mine alone. I thought that the people I had placed near the Dursley's home could monitor the child sufficiently. Obviously, I was mistaken."

"You discovered this fact ... only today?"

Dumbledore nodded and told Snape about Vernon's assault upon Harry, the revelations of hatred, the prejudice and abuse, then of Arthur's instinctive response to the attack and the injustice that had been reaped upon Harry his entire young life. "How could I have erred so greatly?"

"How were you to know Albus? Abuse can be well hidden."

The old wizard continued, as if not hearing Snape's comment. "From their perspective, my operatives had no idea what was transpiring within the walls of that house. Harry never alluded to any injustice or abuse … never," his voice trailed off in a whisper.

Albus finally lifted his gaze to meet that of Snape's. "I have failed that young man. I realize that now... and I fully admit to that fact. Also, based upon Arthur's accounting of a discussion he had with Harry before the fray, and his physical state, Harry is terribly depressed over the death of Sirius. Again, he never alluded to any distress in his letters to me. I believed that he was coping adequately, and so my transgression continues."

"What do you mean — his physical state?"

Dumbledore relayed the fact that Harry had lost a great deal of weight in just one month, that his blood pressure was dangerously high due to stress, that there was evidence of physical abuse and, according to Madame Pomfrey, Harry was exhibiting the classic signs of severe depression.

Snape voiced all he had seen earlier that evening. Added to what Dumbledore had just conveyed to him, feelings of guilt and shame for his obvious misconceptions about Harry took hold of him, and the longer he thought on the matter the more damning each detail of his personal transgression came to light.

"Severus?" The gentle calling of his name snapped Snape from his musings.

"You aren't the only one with transgressions to face tonight, Albus." He responded, his disappointment evident in the tone of his voice. "I realized today just how mistaken..." he paused momentarily, looking towards the warm flames of the fire." I realized how wrong I have been about ... Harry."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed. "I am so relieved that you are finally able to see the truth about him. He isn't James. In fact, as I have had the opportunity to get to know Harry, I often think that you and he are quite alike, different in some regards, but essentially alike."

Severus smirked at the comparison.

"You called him Harry."

"I what?"

"You called him Harry. I've never heard you use his first name Severus, not until tonight."

Severus set down his now empty crystal goblet. "I believe that until now, I have never truly considered Harry as an individual. I've always viewed him as..." He thought for a moment, "I suppose I viewed him as a sort of allegorical figurehead. To me personally, he always represented his father. He was a target where I could channel the resentment I obviously still harbor, and perhaps I..."

Dumbledore waited a moment. "What?" he said softly.

Severus looked down at his hands, as he fiddled with the signature ring he still wore. "Perhaps I was a bit ... envious, jaundiced, because of his ease with people, his distinction and import."

Knowing how difficult it was for Severus to have admitted these things to himself, let alone give them voice, Dumbledore leaned foreword and reached a hand toward his long time protégé. "Severus, we all have our strengths and our weaknesses. Please, do not judge yourself harshly. You have the opportunity now to rectify the past."

Severus felt totally drained. "If I do Albus, then so do you."

The two wizards shared a long and knowing look. With regards to Harry, they both felt a weighty guilt and a need to make amends.

Severus rose wearily from the chair and crossed the room but paused before opening the door. "I observed evidence of unintentional magic at the Dursley's house."

"Yes, Arthur relayed to me what happened. I assume you are referring to the windows?"

"Yes. It was Harry, no doubt?"

Albus nodded his head. "Arthur stated that as Harry's uncle ascended the staircase, the poor boy became highly distressed and that for a moment or two, some sort of electrical charge could be felt. Then suddenly all of the windows started to crack."

Severus leaned against the door and compared these words to his own memory of when he'd witnessed Harry's extraordinary powers at work. "You should know that I also witnessed a similar occurrence."

Dumbledore perked with curiosity. "You did? When?"

"It happened the last day of term, during the Leaving Feast." Severus sighed and recounted the unfortunate event. "It was a private moment for Harry. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was quite distressed over the death of Black and when he momentarily placed his hand against the wall, the castle shook. He immediately withdrew his hand and the shaking stopped."

Albus gasped. "I remember that. It lasted only a brief moment, but all of us in the Great Hall felt it."

Severus waited in silence as Dumbledore pondered the magnitude of his news.

"It would seem that Harry and I are overdue for a little talk."

"So it would seem Albus, so it would seem."

~~~SH~~~

Severus slowly made his way down from the Headmaster's tower. He arrived at the second level and began to follow the turn in the stairs to continue his descent, but paused.

It was only a few steps to his right and to stop by would be a small gesture, a simple show of support; why was he hesitating?

"This is preposterous." Annoyed at himself, Severus turned and walked determinately towards the infirmary, opened the door but then stopped.

It was if time had suddenly softened and slowed its pace. The opalescent moonlight drifting in through the numerous windows, hung suspended within the darkened shroud of the ward.

Severus slowly walked foreword; each step brought him closer to the solitary figure lying still as a corpse upon the bed. The only movement from Harry's body was the steady, shallow rise and fall of his chest.

Plied with potions, Harry had been drugged into a dreamless sleep. But even if he had been awake, he would have barely heard the soft whisper issued by the contrite man before him.

"I am sorry Harry."

Drained and exhausted, feeling as though he was himself about to collapse, Severus turned slowly to leave and his hand inadvertently brushed atop that of Harry's. To his surprise, the fingers of the smaller hand closed ever so slightly upon his own.

Startled, Severus looked upon this tenuous connection. Why he didn't immediately withdraw his hand he couldn't say. Physical contact was something Severus Snape neither gave nor received easily.

He looked from their hands back towards Harry's face; Severus could see that the young man was sound asleep, so how could this have happened?

His normal response would have been to withdraw, but for some reason he didn't. Instead, Severus slowly lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed. He sat there and looked upon Harry for what seemed to be the first time. 'The Boy Who Lived' was a figurehead to the Wizarding World, but the beaten young man before him now was just that — a beaten young man.

This was Harry; not a reincarnation of his father but a person in his own right: a too thin individual with sunken cheeks, a head wrapped in gauze and bruises about his face.

Severus hadn't thought he could feel any worse, but he did. It would take a long time for him to come to terms with the role he had played in all the injustice. Beyond that, he would someday need to apologize to a Harry Potter that was conscious and could very easily tell Severus to go straight to hell.

Would Harry ever be able to forgive him? Perhaps not but even so, Severus was determined to stand by his declaration to make amends to this young wizard, and he would do so starting now.

He would sit patiently here by Harry's side. Even though he was unconscious, if Harry needed to hold onto someone, Severus decided that he would stay and allow the contact.

This day seemed to have lasted an eternity, but it was only a prelude of what lay ahead ... for Harry and Severus.

~~~SH~~~


	4. Detached

Thank you everyone for the favs and the reviews; I am so happy to finally be able to post these stories here at fanfiction and am glad that you're enjoying this first fic. Hugs, SHaria

**4. Detached **

_A rustle of sound woke Harry and when he opened his eyes, to his amazement, he saw his Godfather sitting there next to him. _

"_Sirius, what are you doing here? I thought you were dead. Aren't you dead?"_

"_Who, me? Merlin no. I just stepped out of the room for a minute." _

_Relief flooded through Harry. "I'm so glad to see you. I thought I killed you." _

_Sirius let out a roaring laugh. __"__That's the funniest thing I've heard all day__.__ I think you've been doing __way __too much homework lately_."

Another noise startled Harry from his dream, and this time he really did open his eyes. Indeed there was someone sitting next to him, but it was Ron, not Sirius.

"Do you know?" asked Ron.

"What?" Harry responded groggily.

"It starts with the letter P."

Harry squeezed his eyelids tightly, trying to focus. "What are you talking about?"

"I asked if you knew the name of that chap. You know… the one who invented Quadpot?"

"Oh." Harry felt completely disorientated. "Um, I don't know. Something like... Peasegood? Maybe?"

"That's it! Brilliant! I'm almost done now. Just two more down and three more across."

It was Saturday morning and Ron's turn to sit with his injured friend and since Harry spent half his time sleeping, Ron had decided to bring along the latest issue of Quidditch Weekly and an extra long Sugar Quill to help pass away the hours. He was currently working on the crossword puzzle.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's Sirius? He was here just a minute ago."

Ron lowered the magazine and looked at Harry. This wasn't the first time he'd dreamt of Sirius during the past week. Everyone who'd sat with him had witnessed some version of what just occurred.

"Come on mate, you were just having one of those dreams again. Remember? You remember what happened back in June, right?"

Harry closed his eyes and lifted a hand to his aching head. "Oh, yeah ... sorry."

"Uh, don't worry about it. It's just that stupid draught you have to take; it makes you all loopy."

Harry didn't bother to respond. He just lay there gently rubbing the spot on his head where the laceration had been. Even though Madame Pomfrey had healed the wound, the area felt numb yet tingly, all at the same time. She said it was because of some damage to the nerves in the area and that it would go away eventually; but still, it was an odd feeling.

"Hey mate, you hungry? You want some soup or something?"

Harry shook his head, no. Even though it had been a slight movement, he instantly regretted the attempt as the muscles and tendons in his neck were still quite tender.

Dobby suddenly appeared on Harry's bed, carrying a tray of food.

"Dobby! We were just talking about getting some food," exclaimed Ron.

The little elf turned to look at Ron with an odd expression. "Dobby is knowing this, Harry's Wheezy. For Dobby is many times checking on his Harry Potter."

"You do?" managed Harry.

Dobby nodded and walked up the length of the bed to place the tray on Harry's lap. "Dobby is very fast and very quiet and Dobby is making it so that he is not seen, if that is what Dobby wishes."

Ron had already grabbed one of the Roast Beef Sandwiches and replied with his mouth full of food. "I diddin know dat. Can all duh elves do dat?"

Dobby stared worriedly at Harry. "Harry Potter is not eating his food."

"I'm just not very hungry," he answered as he picked away at the crust of a sandwich.

Dobby sat down and touched Harry on the shoulder. "Please Harry Potter, please eat something for Dobby. Dobby is making Harry Potter some of his I'osi's special broth. Will Harry Potter please try some?"

Harry looked confusedly at Dobby. "Who is I'osi?"

The little elf smiled at his favorite wizard and shook his head. "Harry Potter, I'osi is not being a name; it is being a thing. I'osi is meaning grandmother, and Dobby's grandmother is being named Widgen."

"Oh."

"Please Harry Potter, try some of I'osi's broth."

"Okay." He tried reaching for the cup of broth. Since his accident, such maneuvers were challenging because the torn retina in his left eye was affecting his vision, making it distorted and impairing his depth perception.

He took a couple of small sips and then set the cup back down on the tray. Ron had already finished his own sandwich and started in on one half of Harry's.

"Harry Potter is not liking I'osi's broth?"

"No, it's good. Thanks for making it."

Dobby's ears drooped as he looked at his friend with concern. The little elf was at a loss and didn't know what he could do to help his Harry Potter feel better.

~~~SH~~~

When Harry had sufficiently recovered, Madame Pomfrey released him to the care of Arthur and Molly. The still mending skull fracture, concussion and torn retina caused Harry to experience bouts of dizziness, which left everyone far too concerned for his safety to let him attempt the stairs. So Molly and Ginny had cleared out the sewing room on the first floor, and set it up as a bedroom for Harry to use during his convalescence.

It was now well into the first week of August. The heat of summer lay heavy upon Ottery St. Catchpole. The garden at the Burrow had soaked up the warmth and was now bursting with blossoms of Roses, Clematis and Peonies, their flowers lacing the still air with heady scents.

The expanse of grass surrounding the home and stretching out to the orchard welcomed anyone who wished to lie upon its coolness, but because Harry had to be mindful of the delicate situation with his torn retina; he could not leave the embrace of the cottage. It was necessary for him to take a Calming Draught in order to keep his blood pressure at a normal level, so that his retina could heal properly. A side affect from the draught was that it caused his pupils to remain partially dilated, so he needed to stay out of the bright sunlight in order to protect his eyes. The best he could manage was to sit on the porch swing, either in the early morning or after the sun had lowered in the sky, and stare at the blur of his surroundings.

That was about all he did, hour after hour, day after day. When not sitting on the swing, he would retire to his bedroom to lie on the bed and stare at the wall. He didn't talk or interact much with anyone. Even though he was now staying in a home with people that loved and cared about him, he felt completely alone.

Harry knew something was wrong with the way he was feeling, but he couldn't muster the energy or interest to give the matter much thought.

The void where he had been before the accident and where he was now, was much easier to deal with somehow. So he gave in and allowed it to carry him along, drifting within a bubble of emptiness. He had been alone for so long, trying to deal with his grief and loss, that this solitude had become his familiar companion. It didn't matter that the Weasleys loved him, his new companion kept Harry secluded and well beyond their reach.

~~~~~~SH~~~~~

Molly pushed open the back screen door and peeked out to check on Harry.

He was in his usual spot on the porch swing, just sitting and staring. She went over and sat down beside him and gave him a warm hug.

"I was just about to make a nice batch of scones; would you like to come in and keep me company?"

Harry shook his head no.

Molly glanced sideways at the young man. "How's your head feeling this morning dear, any better, or still achy?"

"It's better, thanks."

Molly gave up on further conversation and decided to just sit with the young man. She watched Ron and Ginny as they worked in the vegetable garden, weeding and cultivating the plants. After they completed their morning chores, her two youngest were free to spend the remainder of the day as they wished.

As they sat in silence, she caught sight of an owl far off in the distance.

"Here comes the morning post."

Harry looked up and watched the spec in the distance grow larger as the owl came closer and closer to the house, then dropped the post and parcels in Molly's lap.

She thumbed through the letters. "This one is for you," she said and handed him a large envelope; it was from Hermione.

There were many stamps and a return address that included the name USS Bella Rosa, then c/o Mr. and Mrs. Granger's London address.

"Can you manage to read it on your own, dear?

"Yeah Mrs. Weasley, I'll just close my bad eye. It'll be okay."

"All right then, I'll go in and bake those scones. Call if you need anything."

She gave him another hug then rose from the swing, but before she had made it through the screen door, Harry spoke to her.

He kept his head down and looked at the letter in his lap as he spoke, "Mrs. Weasley?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Um ... Thanks."

She walked back to the swing, leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "You're very welcome, dear." She patted him gently on the shoulder before heading back to the kitchen. "I'll bring you a scone as soon as they're ready."

~~~~~SH ~~~~~

Harry slowly tore back the flap to the large brown envelope and pulled out what appeared to be a present and a letter.

Even with his new glasses, the partially healed retina made the vision in that eye blurry. He tried to read the letter but the blurriness presented a challenge, so he held his hand over his injured eye and that seemed to do the trick.

_Dear Harry, _

_Ron wrote and told me that you were finally able to leave the infirmary. I'm so glad the Headmaster allowed you to go to the Burrow. I'll bet Mrs. Weasley is taking good care of you. I've been so worried about you since I heard of the accident. I tried to get Mom and Dad to cut our trip short, but they said no. I wish you could be here Harry. The cruise boat is like nothing you've ever seen. It's huge! There's even a library. At the beginning of our trip, we went through the Panama Canal. You wouldn't have believed it Harry, how it all works. It's absolutely amazing. We've made it down the west side of Latin America and through the Straights of Magellan. It's fascinating visiting all the little towns, seeing the different people and their cultures. I'll tell you all about it when we're back at school. We'll only just get back in time to go to Diagon Alley and get my supplies. It's time for dinner, so I need to finish this letter. Please take care of yourself. I hope you enjoy the present. _

_All my love, _

_Hermione_

Harry bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears, set aside the letter and undid the wrappings to the present.

It was a black baseball cap. Across the front of the cap, embroidered in an iridescent shade of green were the words PANAMA CANAL. Also enclosed was a soft cover booklet describing the construction and operation of the canal.

"What's that?" Ron asked as he and Ginny made their way up from the vegetable garden.

"A present from Hermione."

Ginny picked up the booklet and began to read it as Ron took the cap from Harry. "Wow, this is so cool!" he marveled.

"It's a baseball cap, Ron." Harry stated, matter-of-factly.

"What's that ... baseball?"

Harry just shook his head. They really had been brought up in such different worlds. "It's a Muggle sport they play over in the states; it's like Cricket."

"Yeah, I've heard of Cricket before. Why don't they make caps like this for Quidditch? That would be so cool."

The three hung out in silence for a bit, Ginny reading, Ron busily adjusting the leather strap at the back of the cap, while Harry sat and stared at the porch railing. After Ron got the cap sized just right, he hopped up on the railing to stare out at the orchard and slipped in a few sideways glances at his silent friend.

Ron debated for the umpteenth time, whether or not to bring up a subject the entire family had been skirting around ever since Harry's arrival. His intentions always good, if not wise, Ron decided to go for it.

"You know mate, we never did get to celebrate your birthday. How about if we do it in the next few days? We already got all the decorations and stuff. Come on, it will be fun!"

Ginny immediately stopped her reading, fearing the worst, she held her breath.

When Harry didn't respond and the silence grew to awkward proportions, Ron tried again. "Did you hear me? What do you think about having your..."

Harry cut Ron off mid-sentence. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"What d'ya mean? Come on, you've got to have your birthday party, even if it is a little late."

"Leave him alone," reprimanded Ginny.

"Hey Gin, no one asked for your opinion!"

Harry interjected before she could respond. "Ginny... don't bother."

Then he turned to Ron. "Look, I don't want a birthday party … okay? Can you understand that? I don't feel like celebrating so just drop it, all right? Drop it!" Harry stood up and marched into the house, slamming the screen door behind him for good measure.

Ginny glared at her brother. "Now see what you've gone and done? I hope you're proud of yourself!"

Dumfounded by Harry's outburst, Ron stared in shock as his mother came out to ask what had happened to upset Harry so much.

"Mom, I just asked him about having his birthday party. Who wouldn't want a birthday party?"

Molly sighed. "Oh Ronny, Harry is going through quite a bit right now. You've seen how withdrawn and sad he is."

"I know Mom, but maybe a party would cheer him up."

Molly crossed the porch, lifted the cap from her son's head and ran her fingers lightly across the brightly colored letters. "I'm afraid it's going to take a lot more than a party to cheer up Harry. We all need to be patient and supportive. He needs time Ron, time to get over all that has happened."

Even as she said these words, she knew it wasn't true. It was becoming more and more apparent to this experienced mother that Harry needed help, a kind of help that neither she, Arthur, nor her children could give.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

"Albus, you simply cannot let that poor boy go on like this, something has to be done; he needs help."

Dumbledore stood facing the windows staring out at the pitch as his meeting with Poppy, Molly and Arthur dragged on into the late hours of the afternoon.

They had discussed all of Harry's past and current troubles, reminding Albus yet again, how badly he had failed this young man.

He tuned out the voices behind him and envisioned the memory a very young and happy Harry, flying at break-neck speeds across the pitch. Then he thought of all the struggles Harry had faced since reentering the Wizarding world: the Chamber of Secrets, the Dementors, being abducted during the Third Task, the death of Cedric and then Sirius. All these things were culminating and taking their toll on the young wizard.

Albus turned to face those present and refocused his attention upon the discussion at hand. Just then, Molly asked Poppy if she had some potion that could help Harry.

"This is beyond my field of expertise," the Mediwitch replied. "I can heal his physical injuries, but not the depression."

"The Calming Draught you prescribed for him," added Arthur, "it seems to be helping with the nightmares."

"Harry's retina is almost completely healed now; soon I will take him off the draught. It would be logical to assume that shortly thereafter, the nightmares will resume. The draught only affects the symptoms; it can not cure the cause."

The Headmaster sighed and considered all that that had been discussed that afternoon.

Everyone's interactions with Harry during his stay in the infirmary and at the Burrow, combined with Arthur's rendition of what he had witnessed prior to the accident, all left little doubt that Harry was indeed not well.

The ambivalence and lack of appetite were all classic signs of depression. The disturbing dreams and high blood pressure were manifestations of grief and stress, but Dumbledore was at a loss as how best to proceed. "What do you suggest Poppy?"

"Counseling Albus; he needs counseling. You or I could contact St. Mungo's and arrange for a counselor to visit him at the Burrow."

Dumbledore turned to face the Weasleys; Arthur responded immediately. "Of course Albus, whatever he needs. We want Harry to be well and happy."

At that moment, Fawkes offered a soft and beautiful trill, as if voicing his agreement to what Arthur had just said.

Dumbledore and his Familiar silently regarded each other for a time, seemingly engaged in a private communication. Eventually, Albus laid a gentle hand upon the crimson bird and stated his decision. "Very well, I will contact St. Mungo's immediately and make arrangements for the very best counselor they can recommend."

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Molly and Arthur had been on pins and needles all afternoon. Trying to keep their nerves in check, each had engaged themselves in much needed distraction.

Arthur had chosen to play a game of Wizard's Chess with Ron, while Molly had taken to the kitchen and enlisted Ginny's help to make a treacle tart for Harry. When the flames in the Floo flared green, each parent just about jumped out of their skin.

"Hello … Molly? Arthur?"

Arthur went over to the Floo. "Hello Albus."

"May I come through? Is this a convenient time?"

"Oh yes, we've been waiting for you."

At those words, Ron and Ginny both turned to their parents in surprise. "We have? What are we waiting for?"

"Shhh, not now Ron. We'll tell you later," directed Molly.

"Tell us what?" asked Ginny.

She also received a "Shhh."

The flames flared green and Albus Dumbledore stepped gracefully from the Floo. "How are all of you this fine summer's eve?"

"We're fine, Albus. Would you like a nice cup of tea?"

"No thank you, Molly. I prefer to address the matter at hand." He looked around the kitchen, "So, where is Harry?"

"He's just out back." Arthur pointed to the screen door.

Dumbledore offered a slight bow. "Well then, if you will excuse me?"

With that, the headmaster crossed the kitchen and stepped out onto the back porch, mindful not to let the screen door slam as it closed.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

It was a magnificent summer's eve. The air was still and silent, filled with heady scents from the abundant flowers that graced the garden. Dumbledore could see Harry a short distance away.

He was sitting on the grass at the edge of a knoll, leaning against one of the smooth round boulders, staring off into the distance.

Matching the young wizard's train of sight, Albus looked to his right and was greeted by a magnificent sunset. He allowed himself a few cherished moments to bathe in the tranquility of the glowing orange sun as it sank heavily into the far horizon.

But he had not come to the Burrow to enjoy the sunset. Bracing himself, Albus stepped off the porch and crossed the lawn. "Hello, Harry."

Startled at the unexpected voice, Harry turned quickly with his wand drawn. "Headmaster, I'm sorry, I..."

Dumbledore raised a hand. "Do not trouble yourself." He paused a moment at the sight of the thin and harried young man before him. "May I join you?"

"Uh ... sure." When it became apparent that the old wizard intended to sit upon the grass, Harry made to jump up in order to assist.

Again, Dumbledore raised his hand. "I may not be as young as I used to be, but I am still quite capable," he said in a lighthearted voice as he sat down and adjusted his purple and gold silk robes.

Albus took a deep breath and looked about the garden. "It seems you have the best seat in the house."

"Pardon?"

Dumbledore inclined his head toward the distant sunset.

"Oh, yeah. I ... I like it out here. It's quiet." The last bit of his sentence was no more than a whisper.

The two sat in silence and watched as the sun finished its decent. The orange sliver of light disappeared, gracing the sky with an encore of crimson hues. As the colors faded and the silence grew, Harry became a bit uncomfortable. _What __i__s the headmaster doing here? _

As if reading his thoughts, Dumbledore spoke. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh fine, I guess. I'm alright."

"I am told you have been rather quiet as of late."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Not much to say."

The old wizard paused before responding, intent on guiding the course of the conversation. "I see. And what of your injuries? How are they faring?"

"I'm fine ... really. Madame Pomfrey healed all of them."

The sage wizard picked at a few blades of grass, then responded in a soft and hesitant voice. "I think perhaps not."

"Excuse me?"

"Harry, if I may be so bold, I believe there is one injury that Madame Pomfrey…" He paused. "That everyone..." He paused again. "That I may have overlooked."

Harry stared at the old wizard, not knowing what in the world he was talking about.

Dumbledore slowly raised a hand and laid it gently upon the center of Harry's chest. "The injury I speak of … is here. It is the injury to your heart, the injury to your soul."

Harry felt as though Dumbledore's words struck him at his very core. All of a sudden, it seemed rather difficult to take a breath. He wanted to tell the old coot that he was wrong, that he, Harry, was indeed fine. But he couldn't.

Dumbledore looked at Harry intently and his gaze seemed to bore straight into that empty void where Harry had been residing for such a long time now.

Tears welled in his green eyes and his vision began to swim behind a sea of sadness. He lowered his head, trying valiantly to hide his weakness.

"Harry, listen to me. You have faced so many challenges in your short sixteen years, far more than anyone should face in an entire lifetime. You've faced these challenges with tremendous courage, but for as strong as you are, I believe the loss of Sirius was your breaking point. You have no cause to be ashamed. On the contrary, the shame and failure lies with me. I thought I had provided adequately for you and certain that you'd be well cared for. I obviously failed in that task and my failure has compounded over these past two months. My confidence in your resiliency has led to my own complacency with regards to your well being, and for that Harry, I apologize. To see you now, so lost and consumed with grief, what can I do but to try and rectify my past mistakes?"

Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on the teen's shoulder. "You deserved to have a wonderful childhood, to be loved and cherished; but that did not happen. You were tormented, just as you have been these past years. And what have I done to help you? Nothing more than cavalier decisions, confident that your tenacity would see you through all of these impossible situations and loses."

As Dumbledore continued to berate himself for his mistakes and praising Harry for his courage in the face of hardship, Harry was falling apart. A few months ago, Dumbledore had barely looked at him. Now he was articulating and giving voice to all which Harry had kept buried deep within his heart, truths he dared not face, and now these thruths were turning out to be a bit much to take.

One moment, his head was buried in his hands as he broke down, sobbing. The next moment, slight yet strong arms wrapped around him and all he could see, through his tears, was purple silk and gold crescent moons.

Watching as Harry succumbed to his grief, Albus had leaned forward and drew the weeping young man to him. He wrapped his arms around Harry and held onto him in a tight embrace. All his failures had been given voice, his regrets avowed. What mattered at this moment and for the foreseeable future was not Albus' failure, but Harry's healing. The old wizard sat quietly holding Harry, his cheek resting atop the wild mop of hair.

"My dear boy, all the losses you have endured have taken their toll upon you. You have been so brave and so courageous, trying to face these challenges alone. But they are too much. You need someone to help you sort through your sadness and your grief. That is why..." He tightened his embrace, "I want you to agree to receive counseling."

Harry had been crying so hard, he thought he misunderstood the Headmaster's last word. "Counseling?" Harry asked with a muffled voice.

"Yes, counseling."

Only then did Harry realize that Dumbledore was holding him, so he pulled gently out of the embrace and wiped away his tears. "Headmaster, what exactly is counseling?"

"A counselor is a person trained to help individuals such as you. People who have been emotionally injured."

Harry didn't like the sound of this. "But ... what is it? How do they do that ... exactly?"

"To be perfectly honest my boy, I too was a bit fuzzy on the facts and have recently garnered an education regarding the matter. Counseling is a process of talking and discussion. I have been in contact with a number of counselors already, trying to locate the best one I could find for you."

"But who would be talking?"

"You would, Harry. You and your counselor would simply talk about the issues that you find upsetting."

This supposedly simple process didn't sound simple at all. Harry tended to hold things inside. Now he was supposed to talk about them — with a stranger? "I don't know about this Sir; I really don't like to talk about my ... well, my stuff."

Dumbledore leaned forward. "Harry, look at me ... please."

Harry did so.

"Do you like the way you have been feeling this summer?"

Harry slowly shook his head, no.

"I realize, that after my past failures toward you, I have absolutely no right to pose this request. But I am going to do it, because I do care for you and I want you to be happy."

He laid one of his hands upon Harry's. "I'm asking for you to please trust me in this matter, and agree to engage in counseling."

Dumbledore closed his fingers, squeezed Harry's hand and stared intently into searching green eyes.

Finally, Harry gave in. "Okay, I'll do it."

Dumbledore smiled. "Well done my boy, well done."

~~~~~SH~~~~~


	5. Looking In

Thanks again for the favs and reviews. In this chapter, things start to look up for Harry and we get our first glimpse of Voldemort. All rights belong to JKR and the gang.

**5.****LOOKING**** IN**

Harry caught sight of the counselor when she appeared just outside the protective wards surrounding the Burrow. He'd wanted to get a look at her, and had been waiting and watching from a hidden spot high up in a tree, but from this distance he couldn't make out any details.

When she walked through the front gate, he sighed at what seemed like impending doom, and then made his down the tree and headed for the house.

In the two days since Dumbledore's visit Harry had remained aloof, withdrawing even further inside himself. With his retina now completely healed, he had begun biding his time out in the orchard. From beneath the camouflage of tree branches, he could watch Ron and Ginny play one on one Quidditch or just sit and worry about the upcoming discussions of his emotions with a complete stranger.

Mrs. Weasley stepped out onto the porch and saw Harry's approach. "Oh, there you are," she said with relief. "I was just coming to look for you; the counselor is here."

He walked up the steps then stopped and stared silently at her; his anxiety was clearly evident in his expression.

"Harry dear, I know this is terribly difficult, but you must do this. You can't go on the way you've been." She took hold his hand and without saying a word, he followed Mrs. Weasley into the house.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Harry had imagined this counselor would be old and dreary, somber and austere. But when he saw her, his breath caught — for she wasn't anything like he'd imagined.

Her eyes were blue, bluer even than Dumbledore's. Her hair was white, but cut short and styled in a modern fashion. Her creamy skin seemed almost translucent, but it was her expression that impressed Harry most for she looked at him as if she already knew him. She seemed to radiate a sense of calm that reached out to him and abated his anxiety.

"Hello Harry. My name is Helena, Helena Swanson." She stood and walked over to him.

He managed a feeble "Hello," and shook her hand. He didn't know why, but this person whom he'd only just met made him feel at ease and at peace.

Helena suggested that they take a walk in the garden. As they strolled along, she chatted about this and that, but it was the tone of her voice and her easy manner that eased Harry's nerves.

When they reached the cool shade of a large Mulberry tree, Helena conjured two comfortable chairs where they could sit. Then after a few moments and with a calm voice, Helena initiated what would become a journey of healing and self-discovery.

"I am told Harry, that you have been rather sad this summer."

_Here __we __go__._He lowered his head and gave a tiny nod.

"Tell me, what do you feel when you are sad?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when we are sad our sadness can also make us feel other things."

"Alone." He answered flatly.

"You feel alone?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I always feel alone. Or maybe..."

She waited a moment. "Isolated?"

"Yeah ... isolated." He thought about this word — isolated. It hadn't occurred to him before, but that described perfectly the way he'd felt all summer long.

"Can you share with me what you're thinking right now?"

He bit his lip and for some reason, the back of his hand was suddenly quite itchy.

"Harry?" she pressed.

"I don't know what to say. I'm just thinking about feeling isolated."

"Try to describe how this isolation feels to you."

He knew this was going to be hard, but not _this_ hard. "Um ... I guess it feels kind of like there's a wall around me."

Helena pondered his words. "Is the wall made up of anything in particular?"

Harry found all her questions so confusing. "What do you mean, 'made up of'? You mean like stones and stuff?"

"Mmm … no. Even though your wall is quite real, it isn't something you can physically touch. Let me rephrase my question." She tried again. "Can you decipher what it is that makes up this wall, or perhaps what _made _the wall?"

Harry thought and thought about his wall, about what his wall was made of and how it had been made, and as he began to realize the answer, his expression became more and more despondent.

"What is it, Harry?"

He choked down a swallow. "Sadness. The wall is my sadness."

~~~~~SH~~~~~

At the same time this young wizard sat speaking with his counselor; a much older wizard sat reclining in a chair a continent apart and a lifetime away. Unlike the green eyes haunted with sadness, his were red and slitted, like those of a snake.

He watched the beautiful young Geisha as she made her way back to the Shinden, taking little footsteps along the lantern lit path. She wore a silk Kimono of sugary pinks with a pattern of rose colored cherry blossoms woven into the fabric. Aside from her beautiful features and delicate manner, she was also very talented and had just serviced the Dark Lord to his utmost satisfaction.

As she made a turn, disappearing behind an old and sculptured Japanese Black Pine, Voldemort lowered his gaze to the water before him.

One of the Shinden's large ponds was situated in front of the palatial Tainoya where he had been residing these past two months. Bathing in the tranquility of these surroundings and that of his own contentment, he further indulged his serenity by sipping on warm Saki and drinking in the sight of the resting Koi as they floated near the top of the water. These shimmery individuals, Kohakus to Chagois, had all enjoyed their day. But now, as was this most feared wizard, they too were relishing the stillness of the summer night.

After his fierce and draining battle with Dumbledore earlier that summer, Voldemort had retreated to the Far East to renew his energy and restore his powers. It was a land he'd grown fond of during his early adulthood, and a place he often visited.

During his employment to Borgin and Burkes, Tom Riddle had traveled extensively, searching for yet undiscovered dark treasures that his employer could sell for profit. He'd made numerous acquaintances on these trips, and developed associations with those he found intriguing or useful. One such acquaintance was an aristocratic Asian wizard who owned a magnificent estate located in the mountainous Niigata region of Japan. Aside from his wealth and willingness to accommodate the Dark Lord, this devoted acquaintance was also a gifted strategist and Voldemort took advantage of his insight to advance his cause.

The two spent much time discussing military strategy, both historical and tactical. Voldemort's plan was to first gain control of Europe, then Asia. When both sides of the continent were under his control, he would focus his intent on Russia, eventually conquering the entire north eastern hemisphere and ultimately the entire planet.

It would be a long and arduous process, but he was determined to succeed. There was however, one minor thing standing in his way. A sole individual, confirmed by prophecy as someone capable of not only impeding the Dark Lord's plan, but of actually destroying him. And so this individual had to be removed, but accomplishing this task had thus far proven elusive.

His previous failures to rid himself of this nemesis, a mere boy, only added fervor to his intent so that now, even in his weakened state, he determinately continued to send painful reminders of his presence and ultimate threat.

Voldemort had devised a new strategy and soon he would return to Europe to implement this plot. He was fixed on succeeding this time; to that end he would devote his total efforts.

_You have thwarted me far too long Harry Potter. It is time for all of this to end. I shall rid myself of you, then there will be no one to stand in my way.  
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~~~~~SH~~~~~

For nearly two weeks solid, Helena came to the Burrow on a daily basis to work with Harry. She believed that a consistent series of sessions would get him to the point where he'd be able to cope with returning to Hogwarts.

The sessions took place every afternoon just after lunch; some were harder than others, some more confusing. Often Harry would become frustrated, not understanding where Helena was leading him with her difficult questions. At first he kept hoping that she would just tell him how to make sense of everything, or say something that would ease his guilt; but eventually he realized these sessions would never provide a magical cure, only lots of questions, lots of soul searching and always the dreaded act of talking. And it was he, Harry, who had to do most of the talking.

He spoke about his childhood and the Dursleys, the cupboard under the stairs and his wanting to be loved and accepted. Helena pressed him to recall each memory and every hurt feeling.

It took hours and hours. Often when a session ended, he felt completely drained and could do nothing more than go to his bedroom to sleep for the remainder of the afternoon. He would come dragging out of his room at suppertime looking as though he hadn't slept in a week. Then after dinner he would retreat to the back porch swing, quiet and sullen.

Helena assured Molly, Arthur, and their worried children that this was not unusual; that indeed, the difficult emotional work Harry was undertaking was physically taxing. Her advice was to offer love and support, and for Molly to cook the most appealing foods possible in an attempt to get Harry to eat more and hopefully regain some of the weight he'd lost over the summer.

During the second week of sessions Harry's reactions began to change. He gradually started exhibiting minute yet genuine interest in the goings-on and activities within the gentle fold of the Burrow.

It was just after dinner, about eight days before the beginning of classes. Harry headed out to his regular spot on the porch swing only to find it already occupied by his long time best friend. "Hey, Ron."

"Hey, Harry."

"What are you looking at?"

Ron was surprised by Harry's interest and the fact that he even noticed the letter. "These are my OWL results. They came this afternoon while you were with Helena."

"They did?"

"Yeah, we were all talking about it at dinner. Weren't you listening?"

Harry was baffled that somehow he'd missed the entire discussion. "Um ... I guess not." He ran his hand through his messy mop of hair. "So, how did you do?"

"Okay, I guess. Here, look for yourself." Ron handed Harry the letter then rose from the swing. "I'll be right back."

Harry studied the results as he moved to sit down on the swing, noting that Ron had passed everything but Divination and History of Magic. He was genuinely surprised to see the Acceptable grade in Potions. He also noted that Ron had been made Captain of the Quidditch Team for their sixth year. Reading that sentence brought back many painful memories. Dolores Umbridge, Harry's lifelong ban from Quidditch, Sirius, the Veil ...

The sounds of the Weasleys pouring out of the house roused Harry from his sinking thoughts. He looked over to the approaching sea of redheads and noticed that Ron was holding another envelope.

They all gathered round him; Arthur and Molly sat down on either side, while Ron and Ginny claimed the railing.

Molly wrapped her arm around Harry and handed him the envelope. "Go on dear, open it. These are your OWL scores."

Even though he took hold of the envelope, Harry couldn't bring himself to open it. It was Molly's whispered words that gave him the assurance he needed. "Dear, we all love you. Whatever is written on that parchment would never change how we feel about you."

"Come on, Harry!" chimed Ron. "We've waited all afternoon."

"Yeah, just open it. It'll be fine," encouraged Ginny.

Hesitantly, Harry opened the envelope, unfolded the missive and read aloud his OWL scores:

Charms: Exceeds Expectations

Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations

Divination: Dreadful

History of Magic: Dreadful

Astronomy: Poor

Care of Magical Creatures: Exceeds Expectations

Defense Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding

Potions: Acceptable

"Brilliant! We both got the scores we need to become Aurors!"

"No we didn't. We didn't pass Potions."

"You really weren't listening, were you," replied Ron. "Go on Dad, tell him."

"You see Harry, with all the chaos casused by Madame Umbridge last term, and the fact that only a handful of students received an Outstanding on their potions score, the Headmaster" Arthur quirked his face, deciding what word to use, "_encouraged_ Professor Snape to take students with Acceptable grades and higher."

"See Harry, I told you," smirked Ron.

Harry was stunned. "I don't believe it."

"Well done, dear," cooed Mrs. Weasley.

"You should be very proud of those scores," offered Arthur.

"Thanks." Harry looked at everyone surrounding him. "Thanks, all of you. You've been so great to me, taking me in and all."

"You don't have to thank us, dear."

"No Mrs. Weasley, I do. I want you to know how much I appreciate it. And I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused..."

"Now you listen to me, Harry." Arthur said adamantly. "We'll have no more apologies. You are a member of this family. It may not be in writing, but it is within our hearts. We are here to support each other, in good times and bad."

The teen lowered his head, overwhelmed by Mr. Weasley's sincere declaration. "Thanks Mr. Weasley."

"Go on Harry, open the other letter," said Ginny.

"What other letter?"

"That one, silly," she said smirking as she pointed toward his lap.

Sure enough, there was indeed another letter, but this one was from the Ministry. Harry inhaled sharply as he felt a sudden sense of panic.

"Everything is fine," Arthur assured him. "Go ahead, open it."

Harry held his breath, opened the letter and read it silently.

"Well? What does it say?" asked Ron.

"The Ministry lifted the ban," he looked up with amazement, "I'm allowed to play Quidditch again."

Excited over Harry's news, Ron threw both arms into the air and whooped with glee. Unfortunately, he also fell backward off the railing and landed in Molly's treasured Hydrangea bushes.

"Ronald Weasley! How many times do I have to tell you to act your age?"

Ron stood up, rubbed his sore behind and looked at the now squashed bushes. "Sorry, Mum."

But the sound emanating from her left quelled Molly's anger. At first it was just a small chuckle, but when Ron stood up in full view with Hydrangea flowers protruding from his shirt and hair; Harry broke out in laughter.

Seeing Harry so happy spurred the others to join him and soon a regale of laughter filled the back porch. Molly wrapped her arm around Harry and held him tightly to her. She sighed in relief and offered a silent thank you to Merlin. It had been a long stressful summer, but this first glimmer of happines from Harry gave her hope: hope that he was coming out of his depression, hope that he was indeed healing and hope that someday he might find joy in life.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

_Author's notes: _

_Shinden-zukuri was a type of Japanese architecture during the Heian period. The main buildings of a Nobleman's estate from this period were the Shinden (the main house) and the Tainoya (meaning pavilion or 'opposite house'). The estates also included other traditional structures, large ponds and numerous pathways._


	6. Back to Hogwarts

Again, thank you for the reviews, alerts, PMs and favs. I'm so pleased you're enjoying the story. Here are chapters six and seven, they sort of lay the ground work for where we are heading.

**6. Back to Hogwarts**

"You're very quiet today." Helena commented to Harry as they sat beneath the Mulberry tree.

The previous day, Molly had taken the three teens on the customary shopping excursion to Diagon Alley for books and supplies. The Ministry had sent along two Aurors to assure Harry's safety and the excursion took place without incident.

Harry had originally thought the trip would be a fun, but as they went from shop to shop, the whispers and curious stares from onlookers evoked his trepidation and fired a slow burn of anxiety and nerves.

"I'm sorry Helena, it's just that ..." His sentence trailed off as he nervously fiddled with a hole in his jeans.

She leaned forward. "It's just what, Harry?"

He bit his lip and stared at the hole, "It's just that ... last term ... after …" He struggled to get the words out of his suddenly dry mouth. "I uh ... , I didn't see anyone before we left for the summer break."

His enigmatic statement left her at a loss. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't follow."

He fidgeted some more, then tried again. "I pretty much stayed with Hermione, Ron and Ginny in the infirmary that final week of school. I guess I was kind of avoiding everyone, so I really didn't talk to any of my friends after ... after what happened at the Ministry," he finished in a whisper.

"I see. And now you're nervous about seeing the other students and what they might think of you. Is that correct?"

Harry bit his lip and nodded.

"How could they know …?"

"But that's just it," he suddenly blurted out, "they _do_ know! Everyone knows. It was in the papers … and people talk." He buried his face in his hands, "How can I face them after what I did ... after what he did to me?"

Helena was startled by his sudden outburst of emotion.

When she'd first started working with the teen, Harry had been withdrawn from his environment and from those around him. During the course of two weeks time, they had accomplished a solid start by tackling many of the childhood scars. But as of yet, they had barely touched upon the more recent traumatic incidents.

"What is it you think they'll say to you? Who are you afraid of facing?"

Harry drew his hands away but kept his gaze down, "We went to Diagon Alley yesterday. Everywhere we went, people were whispering and pointing at me. That's not new, people always do that, because I'm the 'Boy Who Lived'. But now they're probably all saying that I'm some big dolt who ran off and got a bunch of people hurt and killed."

"That's not what the media says," Helena countered. "Everything I've read casts you as a hero."

He crossed his arms as though he were suddenly cold. "I haven't told anyone this, but when Voldemort was inside me, all I wanted to do was die. That doesn't sound like much of a hero."

Helena sat quite still; the turn in the conversation had taken on mega proportions. "It would help if you could relay your experience to me."

Harry remained silent and so she pressed for a response, "Can you do that?"

He sat quietly for a while and began again to fiddle with that hole in his jeans. Eventually he released a shaky sigh and told her about the possession: the pain from Voldemort's suffocating presence within him, how he thought that if he could only die Voldemort and the pain would be gone and he, Harry, would once again see Sirius.

"But you didn't die, you lived."

A slight nod was his only response.

"How do you feel about that now?"

"I wouldn't say I'm glad I lived, but even so," he looked at Helena, his confusion marked in his expression, "I don't want to die."

They spoke for most of the afternoon; Helena helped Harry examine all of his impressions and feelings regarding the loss of Sirius, the possession and his right to life and happiness.

"It's going to take time to put all of that behind you; but still, it will always be part of you. As for the public's opinion - it doesn't matter."

"That's easy for you to say."

"Would you rather stay here?"

Harry furrowed his brow. "Where?"

"Here, at the Burrow."

"You mean, not go to school?"

Helena had learned much about Harry's character during their work together; already knowing what his answer would be, she guided him through a bit of self-discovery. "Yes, you could just stay here."

Harry was shocked. Not go to school, to Hogwarts, his home? He couldn't do that. He loved Hogwarts, living in the dormitory, being able to do magic, seeing his friends, and now that he was allowed to play Quidditch again … There was only one answer. "No. I don't want to stay here, but I also don't know how I'm going to face everyone."

Helena set her quill and parchment down on the grass, and then leveled a determined look at her patient. "I wish to offer you a bit of advice, something I believe in my heart to be true. All right?"

_This __i__s a first_, he thought. Generally, Helena only asked questions; granted, they were leading questions, but she always made him do the talking. So perhaps she was finally going to give him that panacea he had been waiting and hoping for.

"Okay."

"Harry, I know that you are overwhelmed and frightened. Seeing all of your peers will be a daunting task. But I also know that Hogwarts is very important to you, so much that you are willing to face your own vulnerabilities in order to be there. I support you in that decision and I commend you for it. I believe you to be a brave young man but you are also human and certainly not invincible."

As she spoke these words of sincerity, tears began to well in Harry's eyes. This was not a new occurrence to their sessions; she had often witnessed him break into tears, and he'd by now given up any effort to hide his emotions. So he held his gaze, looking at her through swimming emerald eyes.

"I would like to continue our sessions once you have returned to Hogwarts. We can be very discreet about this; no one need know. It is one thing to be a figurehead, but you are also your own person, and you deserve the respect to have your private matters private"

He released the smallest of sighs.

"Returning to school will be a challenge," she continued, "and I will be there to help you, as will your friends and your teachers. And so, here is my advice."

This was the most Helena had ever spoken to him, and Harry relished her every word.

"Approach it one day at a time. Don't overwhelm yourself thinking about how you're going to make it through the entire school year or deal with the entire student body. Just think of getting through one day at a time and one person at a time. If that's too much, then try to get through one class or one hour, or even five minutes. But if things get to be too much, call for me and I will come."

Tears were now sliding quietly down his cheeks. Harry couldn't manage to speak a word so he just nodded.

"You'll be all right." She smiled with that look of serenity which only Helena could offer. Her assurance gave the teen a bit of peace with his decision to return to Hogwarts, and he hoped that with her help, and of all those who cared about him, it would all work out.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

The day of departure turned out to be the usual chaotic affair, what with everyone collecting their belongings and trying to get to Kings Cross on time. At the station, Hermione and Ginny squealed with glee when they saw each other, hugs were shared and all the initial greetings exchanged. As they waited to board the train, Harry noticed that Ron was unusually quiet around Hermione and decided that, when an opportunity presented itself, he'd inquire as to his friend's odd behavior.

Not long after the train departed, Hermione had to run off to her prefects meeting and Ginny left to sit with Dean. Ron and Harry found themselves sharing a compartment with Luna and Neville, whose nonstop chatter commenced the moment the two saw each felt at ease with his compartment mates, for they had all been with him that fateful day, at the Ministry, and knew to keep that topic of discussion unspoken. As for those that stopped by the compartment, they were congenial toward him and kept their conversations light. No one brought up the subject of the Ministry or Sirius, much to Harry's relief.

As the afternoon wore on, the two teens decided to pass some time with a game of Wizards Chess; Luna suggested that she and Neville should go visit some of her Ravenclaw friends. Now with the compartment to themselves, Harry decided to investigate Ron's earlier demeanor.

"Sure was nice to see Hermione again."

"Queen's Knight to G4. What? Oh yeah, she looks great."

"You can say that again."

Ron's head snapped up. "What do you mean by that?"

"I just mean," Harry shrugged a bit, "that she looks ... different."

"Yeah, I noticed. It's like she grew up, filled out ... you know?"

"Yeah ... I noticed. King's Bishop to F3"

"But more than that Harry; it's not just that she, well, you know... filled out. She's different somehow. It's like she's, um, I don't know how to describe it ... mature, maybe?"

Harry looked out the window while trying to think of the word that might best describe the new Hermione. "Maybe ... cosmopolitan?"

"Cosmo-what? What does that mean?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, knowing that Ron would clam right up if he felt at all pressed. "It's someone who's been around people in other countries and stuff and it kind of affects how they are, You know?

"Huh?"

"You know the Burrow and Hogwarts," Harry tried to explain. "And I know Little Whinging and Hogwarts. But Hermione's been to all kinds of places."

"I went to Egypt once." Ron offered defensively.

"True." Harry shrugged.

Ron thought about Harry's words for a minute. "Yeah ... cosmopolitan. That's what she is now, cosmopolitan." He smiled and then whispered quietly to himself, "I like the sound of that."

Harry started to investigate further but before he could pose his next question, the compartment door slid open and in came none other than Hermione. She collapsed onto the bench right next to Ron. "I thought that meeting would never end."

"Anything interesting?" asked Harry.

"Actually... yes. But you'll have to wait until the Welcoming Feast to find out. The Headmaster is going to address all returning students."

"He is? Do you know what he's going to say?" asked Ron.

"Yes, I do. Anthony was given a copy of the speech to read to the prefects.

"Why, where are you lot going to be?" he asked.

"We're supposed to escort all the first years to their dormitories before he begins his speech."

"Oh. So, what's he going to say?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it, Harry"

"Oh, come on Hermione; you can tell us."

"No I can't," she huffed. "Anyway, you two need to get into your robes, we're almost there!"

Surprised, both Ron and Harry looked out the window and realized that Hermione was indeed correct; they were nearing Hogsmeade.

"How did we get here so fast?" asked Ron.

"I don't know, but I've got to loo. I'll be right back."

"No worries mate. I'll put the Chess game away."

Harry jumped up and left the compartment. As he headed down the hallway, he watched students duck into compartments to change into their robes and prepare for the train's arrival at the station. As he finished up in the loo, Harry decided to splash some water on his face before heading back; his scar had been prickling for the last half hour and had started to give him a headache. Aside from these headaches and the occasional burning of his scar, Voldemort had been fairly quiet all summer. If he and everyone else cooperated, Harry just might enjoy a nice normal school year for once in his life and he smiled to himself at the prospect.

But this was Harry Potter, the prime target of the most powerful dark wizard in centuries, the focus of several vengeful Death Eaters, and someone who always seemed to attract trouble. Harry's short lived bliss came to an abrupt end when he opened the bathroom door.

A strong blow threw him backward against the wall and he was immediately pinned at the neck by the enormous forearm of Gregory Goyle. Before he could make any sense of what had just happened, Goyle began to deliver some well placed punches. Even though Harry was on the verge of blacking out, his magic had a mind of its own. The air around them started to crackle and the walls began to shake.

Crabbe opened the door just a crack. "What the hell's going on in there?" He looked around in a panic. "Hurry up and finish Greg; we've got to get going."

"Okay Vince," responded Goyle, "just close the door already."

Once the door was again closed, Goyle leaned in close and spit on Harry's face. "You don't scare me you freaky half-blood." The walls shook even more. "My father is sitting in Azkaban because of you, and my mum cries all the time." He delivered another punch. "You really screwed things up for my family Potter, and you're going to pay." He pushed a little harder on Harry's neck. "You keep quiet about this, or we'll pay a visit to that Mudblood friend of yours."

Harry collapsed to the floor when his attacker pulled his arm away abruptly.

Goyle stepped over the struggling teen, made a hasty exit, then he and Crabbe hurried back to their compartment, two cars ahead. They were proud of themselves for successfully pulling off what, in their grand scheme, would be the first of many taunts designed as a means to deliver vindication for their perceived injustice. Little did they realize that their brazen bungling act would set into motion a series of consequences that would forever shape the wizarding world.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

The train began to slow down as it approached Hogsmead Station. It had taken a while for Harry to collect himself, but he finally did manage to stand. He leaned heavily upon the wall for support as he made it back to the compartment, staggered through the door and wound up once again on the floor.

"Harry!" Ron moved immediately to help his friend. "What's wrong, mate?"

Hermione took one look at Harry's rumpled state and made straightway for the corridor. She looked in both directions, but it was empty. Everyone was apparently in their own compartments, preparing to exit the train. She returned to Harry who was still on the floor and knelt down beside him. "Harry, who did this to you?" she asked determinately.

Harry raised his hand, holding off their questions as he tried to get his breath.

"Why do you even ask, Hermione? It had to be Malfoy, of course."

"Ron, Malfoy was in the prefect's meeting. He and Pansy were still in there talking when I left."

"Not ... Malfoy," Harry responded with a ragged voice.

Hermione took hold of her friend by the elbow. "Come on Ron, let's get him up onto the seat."

As the train pulled slowly up to the platform, Harry now sat on one of the benches, taking little sips from the cup of water Ron had fetched for him. Hermione, who was sitting right next to him, stared at his pallid face with a fixed determination. "You listen to me, Harry James Potter - you absolutely must report this!"

"No," he gingerly rubbed his sore ribs. "I don't absolutely have to report it, and I want you and Ron to keep quiet."

Hermione swelled with exasperation. "You're obviously not thinking clearly. We _have_ to report this. Look at you!"

"Listen, this is my business, all right? I just want to forget it happened. I'm not going to report it, and neither are you two. Got it?"

"Sure mate, whatever you want."

Hermione glared at Ron, then turned back to Harry. "I can't make that promise right now. But I will promise not to say anything just yet. We are going to talk about this later. But please, go see Madame Pomfrey; you're obviously hurt."

"No, I'll be okay and besides, that's one of my goals this year - to stay out of the hospital wing."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head? Because you're not thinking very clearly," she snapped.

"Hermione!" Ron retorted.

"Oh, forget I said that. Look, I have to go help with the younger students. Are you sure you'll be able to manage?"

"I'll look after him, Mione. Just send Ginny in here to help with Pig and Hedwig."

"OK." With that, she gave Harry one more exasperated look then stood and left the compartment while mumbling to herself about 'testosterone interfering with cognitive ability.'

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Ron, Harry and Ginny eventually made it out to one of the awaiting carriages and on up to the castle. The Welcoming Feast got underway with Dumbledore's usual greeting and the sorting of first years. But the most intriguing highlight of the evening was the new Defense instructor, Professor Channon Jackson.

Seated next to Snape, the stark contrast between the two men was undeniable. Although each man's demeanor and carriage portrayed strength and elegance, the new professor was obviously taller and his larger frame was surrounded by a well defined musculature. Where Snape's skin was ivory and translucent; Jackson's was shaded a pale mocha. Both men had jet black hair; but while Severus' curtained his face, the new instructor's hair was straight, thick and hung like a sheet down the length of his back. Where Snape's chiseled facial features gave evidence to his European heritage; Jackson's face hinted to the exotic.

Throughout the entire feast, while nearly every student in the room had their eyes glued on the new professor, other observations were taking place. Severus, who routinely scanned his Slytherins, couldn't help notice Crabbe and Goyle. They were snickering and whispering between themselves and continually shot glances over to the Gryffindor table. Redirecting his attention in that direction, it was obvious that there was quite a bit of tension among the golden trio.

Granger and Weasley repeatedly cast worried looks in Harry's direction, while Harry occupied himself with pushing the food around on his plate and staring blankly at the table.

Glancing now back again toward the Slytherin table, Severus now realized that Draco was also stealing occasional glances in Potter's direction.

A clamor arose as all the first years, led by their house Prefects, vacated the Great Hall. After their exit, Dumbledore stood to once again address the student body.

Ron nudged Harry to get his attention. "He's about to start," he whispered.

In a display of unity and strength, Dumbledore and the professors moved to stand side-by-side in front of the Head table.

"My dear students, as Headmaster, I wish to extend to you our wholehearted apology for the events of last year. It was a stressful period for all, and to many of you, it was a time of unjustifiable hardship. On behalf of your instructors and Heads of House, I want to assure you that this year will mark a return to the familiar. All decrees implemented by Madame Umbridge have been revoked. Everything is as it was prior to her unfortunate appearance at this institution. It is our desire that this school year and all those to come be a time of fruitful learning and happy experiences. Now, as you well know, classes will start bright and early tomorrow morning." Then, Dumbledore stretched his arms out wide. "Live well, laugh often and learn much. ** Goodnight."

Many giggles could be heard throughout the assembly of students at the Headmaster's play on words. As benches were pushed and bodies clambered, the silent attentiveness gave way to a cacophony of chatter and movement. Harry remained in his seat.

"Come on mate, lets head on up."

"Hold on, Ron." Harry swallowed and took a little breath. "I want to wait till it clears out a bit."

"Okay." Ron looked a little more closely. "You're looking a little pale."

"I'm fine, Ron. I just want to wait until it clears out some, all right?"

"Sure, Harry. No worries." Ron feigned casualness, but he continued to look at his friend with concern.

Once they made it up to the Gryffindor common room, Harry headed straight on up the steps to the boy's dormitory and ignored Hermione's attempt to resume their earlier conversation. He added very little to the first night's chatter amongst his dorm mates, and instead quickly got ready for bed. As he discreetly changed into his pajamas, he eyed the angry purple bruise that had formed on his lower chest where Goyle had hit him repeatedly.

Ron caught a quick glimpse of the bruise before Harry could button up his Pajama top. He was about to suggest going to see Madame Pomfrey when Harry called out, "Good-night" to everyone, crawled into bed and drew the hangings closed.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

**The correct quote is:

Live well,

Learn plenty,

Laugh often,

Love much.

by

Ralph Waldo Emerson


	7. A New Plan

**7. A NEW PLAN**

"Are you going to eat that last banger?" asked Ron.

Harry glanced down at the approaching fork and shook his head.

"Ron, you've practically eaten everything on this table single handedly." Hermione was a bit edgy this morning.

"I can't help it if I'm hungry," he snapped back as he speared the one remaining sausage.

"Will you two _please_ stop arguing," Harry pleaded as he rubbed his achy head.

The students of Gryffindor house were finishing breakfast and receiving their new class schedules from Professor McGonagall. Working her way down by year, she was just finishing up with the seventh years.

Harry was exhausted; the pain in his side had kept him awake most of the night and now added to that was one of his headaches.

"All right sixth years, move down to this end please," called out their Head of House.

After forming a queue, each sixth-year filed along to receive their schedule and a bit of advice before heading off for their first class.

"Oh no."

"Something the matter, Mr. Potter?"

"No Professor. It's just that..."

McGonagall glanced down at his schedule and quirked her lips, "I must say starting each week with Double Potions could be a bit daunting, but I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Yes Ma'am."

Harry shuffled off to join Hermione. She'd already received her schedule and was waiting for Harry and Ron. All three had qualified for sixth year Potions, so they planned to walk down to the Dungeons, together.

"Mr. Potter?" asked McGonagall.

Harry turned back to face her. "Yes?"

"Are you well? You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine. Just one of my headaches," he said and shrugged. _That and my side is bloody well killing me._

"Well, if it gets any worse I want you to go see Madam Pomfrey. Understood?"

"Yes Ma'am."

~~~~~SH~~~~~

As soon as Severus finished sorting his Slytherins with their new class schedules, he headed straight for the dungeons knowing that the sixth years would already be lined up outside his classroom, waiting for him.

Finally reaching the potions lab, he strode quickly between the two queues of students hugging the walls to go and unlock the door, but he paused abruptly at the sudden appearance of an old, familiar feeling of uneasiness.

Slowly, he resumed his path toward the door and opened it to allow the students entry. He waited by the door and was once again surprised when Harry walked past him for when he did, the uneasiness intensified and as the teen moved off toward his table, the feeling diminished.

Severus remained by the door, astonished at this realization. He'd always attributed this uneasiness as the affect of Gryffindors and Slytherins occupying a relatively small area for a short period of time, but apparently there was a more to it than a simple case of two incompatible groups.

He shook his head to clear away the uneasy feeling, entered the classroom and strode toward the front where he turned to survey the class. His preoccupation and odd behavior out in the hallway hadn't gone unnoticed and had given rise to wary glances from several of his students.

It was time for his intimidating speech regarding NEWT level potions, how everyone present should be grateful they had been allowed admittance into this class, how difficult the course work would be and so on. He delivered it with his usual aplomb.

"I expect each of you have completed the required reading for this first lesson," he said and then flicked his wand in the direction of the blackboard. "The directions are on the board. You may proceed."

With the student's attention now off of him and onto the task of brewing a difficult potion, Severus moved to take a seat at his desk and put on a show of busying himself with paperwork while in reality, he tried to further assess his recent discovery.

_Why am I picking up on Potter's feelings?_ He shot a quick glance toward the young man. Granger had apparently headed off to retrieve the needed supplies from the cupboard, while Harry attempted to start the fire under their cauldron. Now that Severus actually looked at the young man, it was obvious that something was wrong; his skin was pallid and his movements strained, as if he were in pain.

Severus' thoughts drifted back to that day when he'd stood in the hallway of the Dursleys' house, beside the small cupboard under the stairs. At that time, he'd been blitzed with Potter's emotions, albeit shadows of what had originally transpired.

_How can this be happening?_ Severus thought to himself. He'd always prided himself on his acute skills in Occlumency. Was it because of his work with Potter last school term? That time when Harry breached Severus' shield and entered his thoughts and memories, had some sort of connection been established?

A voice calling his name roused him from his musings. "Yes, Miss Parkinson."

"Professor, I'm not quite certain which part of this newt liver I'm supposed to use."

"I'm coming." As he headed over to the awaiting students, he decided to use this opportunity to perform a small experiment and execute some subtle Legilimency.

After assisting Pansy Parkinson with her Newt liver, Severus proceeded to stroll about the room and survey the other student's progress. He made his way slowly over to Potter and Granger's desk and, stopping behind the pair, he reached out with the utmost of care and ever so lightly brushed upon the surface of Harry's mind.

His gentle efforts were greeted with vehement emotions: feelings of intense pain, a sense of fierce determination, fear and the memory of repeated blows.

Severus immediately ceased his efforts and withdrew to his office. He stepped just out of sight from those in the classroom and leaned against a counter, unsettled by what had just transpired. There was no longer any doubt, Potter was injured and he received these injuries from some sort of altercation and even though he was in great pain, he was trying desperately to carry on in order to protect someone or something.

Potter needed medical attention, but Severus thought it unwise to have the teen strolling up to the third floor unassisted and unprotected. With the need for discretion in handling what was an apparently delicate situation, Severus closed the door to his office, cast a Muffliato charm and then Floo called the Headmaster.

A minute or two later, Severus was back in the classroom and once again strolling amongst the students.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Enter," responded Snape.

The door opened to reveal Albus Dumbledore.

"Good morning Headmaster."

"Good morning to you Professor Snape," Dumbledore replied in a cheery voice. "My apologies for the intrusion."

"No apologies are necessary," Severus returned silkily. "To what do we owe the honor?"

"I wonder if I might borrow Harry for a moment."

The students, having watched this volley of social banter, now focused their attention on Harry.

The surprised teen stared at Dumbledore who merely smiled back in response. Then Harry, Hermione and Ron all exchanged wary glances.

"Mr. Potter," interjected Severus, "do please move along so that the class might return to their potions."

"Yes Sir. Sorry Professor." Harry gingerly lifted his school bag and followed the Headmaster out of the classroom.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

"May I?" Dumbledore reached for Harry's schoolbag.

Bewildered, Harry simply handed over the bag which Dumbledore shrank and placed in his pocket.

"Shall we?" Dumbledore gestured to the hallway before them.

"Headmaster, what's going on?"

"I believe you are the only one who can answer that question."

"Huh?" They were now ascending the stairs. Harry had only been able to manage shallow breaths since his run-in with Goyle and going up the stairs was proving to be a challenge.

"Professor Snape was quite worried about you."

"He was?"

"Yes Harry, he was and still is."

"And he asked you to come for me?"

"He did indeed."

Harry was starting to lag and so Dumbledore placed a supportive arm behind the teen's back. "Professor Snape could see that you were in pain and needed help. I must say, now that I've seen you myself, I wholeheartedly concur with his assessment."

"But Headmaster, I'm fine... Really, I am." Harry started to cough and grabbed his side.

Dumbledore held onto Harry a bit tighter and watched as the young man struggled to catch his breath.

"Are ... are we going ... to your tower ... Sir?"

The old wizard patted Harry reassuringly. "No, we are going to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey is waiting for us. Specifically, she is waiting for you."

Harry looked up with an expression of fear. "No Headmaster, please. We can't. Really, I'm fine."

"Harry, stop this. You are obviously not fine. We are going to the hospital wing and you will allow Madame Pomfrey to heal you."

"But …"

"And I want you to tell me what happened? How did you receive these injuries and why did you not seek assistance?"

Harry's fearful expression grew into full-blown panic. "No, Headmaster, please! I ..." A series of coughs interrupted his sentence. "If say anything ... they'll hurt her."

"To whom are you referring?"

Unfortunately, he was going to have to wait for his answer for just then, Harry's complexion went from pallid to pure white. Dumbledore grabbed a hold of the teen as he started to collapse. "My boy, what's wrong?"

It took every bit of effort Harry could muster to answer, "Can't ... breath."

In a heartbeat, the aged wizard cast a Featherlight spell upon the struggling teen, swept him up in his arms and high-tailed it to the infirmary.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

When the class ended, Severus enjoined Hermione and Ron to remain. After the other students left, he closed the door and attempted to get some answers. "Do either of you know how Mr. Potter received his current injuries?"

Not sure what to say or if they should even respond, they simply stared back at the Professor in silence.

"I'm waiting," he pressed.

Hermione broke first. "Oh Professor, it happened yesterday ... on the train."

"Exactly what happened, Miss Granger?"

"Someone beat him up, just before we pulled into Hogsmeade," added Ron.

"Someone? You don't know who?"

"No sir. Harry won't say who did it."

"Why won't he divulge the identity of the perpetrator?"

"We don't know that either, Sir." Hermione's voice was starting to quaver. "He refuses to talk about it and just keeps saying that he's fine. Professor, where is he now?"

Snape sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I would assume he's in the hospital wing; that was where the Headmaster was taking him."

"You knew?" Ron's response was halfway between a question and an accusation.

Snape focused his inky black eyes on the redhead. "I am only aware of the facts you've just relayed, Mr. Weasley. It was obvious to me that Mr. Potter was in pain and needed help. Not wishing to draw unnecessary attention upon him, I asked the Headmaster if he would escort Mr. Potter to the infirmary."

"Professor, may we go see him?" pleaded Hermione.

Snape shook his head. "No, go to the Great Hall and eat your lunch. I will send word along shortly to report his status." Snape rose to leave, but paused. "Mind you, keep this matter strictly to yourselves. Understood?"

"Yes sir." They responded in unison.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Severus came upon Dumbledore as he was exiting the infirmary. He could see Harry and Madame Pomfrey further down the ward. "How is he?"

Albus sighed with relief "He'll be fine." He placed a gentle hand upon Severus's arm. "Thank you for acting so quickly. If you hadn't ..." The old wizard shook his head, thinking about the alternative.

"Why? What happened?" asked Severus, surprised at his mentor's response.

Albus relayed the fact that Harry had three broken ribs and that while on their way to the infirmary, one of them had punctured the pleura, which in turn caused one of Harry's lungs to collapse.

Poppy walked over to join the two wizards. "He's sleeping now."

"How long will he be in the infirmary?" asked Albus.

"I've placed a healing charm upon the affected area. He'll need to remain very still while it draws the air out of the cavity. The entire process should take a day or so. After that he'll be free to go, but he'll need to take at easy for a couple more days, while his lung strengthens."

They discussed Harry's situation a bit further, then Poppy returned to her office after which Severus relayed the information he'd gleaned from his inquiries with Ron and Hermione. "Were you able to persuade Harry to divulge any details … the perpetrator's name perhaps?"

"Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle; I believe it was Mr. Goyle doing the hitting."

"You believe?"

"Well, he was rather preoccupied at the time, with just trying to take a breath."

Severus looked over to where Harry lay sleeping. "Why did he remain silent?"

"He was concerned for the safety of Miss Granger. I believe his exact words were, "they'll hurt her." Apparently they leveled a threat of seeking retribution upon Miss Granger if Harry reported the beating."

Snape began to smolder; not only were the two oafs completely out of line in attacking a fellow student, but the level of their tactics rivaled that of a Mountain Troll. Preoccupied with the distinct possibility that the Sorting Hat must have made a mistake when it sorted Crabbe and Goyle into Slytherin, he barely heard Dumbledore call his name.

"Severus?"

"Forgive me Albus, did you say something?"

"I asked if you had any further information."

He shook his head. "No, unfortunately I do not."

"Well then," Dumbledore sighed, "I believe it is time we paid a visit to Mr. Goyle and Mr. Crabbe"

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Later that day, Albus and Severus stood on the front steps of Hogwarts and watched as two Aurors escorted Crabbe and Goyle to the front gates.

Dumbledore had vacillated whether to bring official charges against the two young men or simply punish them there at the school. But then he discovered that Goyle had used a Brass Glove to carry out the beating, a Dark Arts artifact charmed with metal like properties; it created an effect that Goyle's hand was encased in metal, easily breaking three of Harry's ribs. This act of wrongdoing was compounded by the fact that Goyle had blackmailed his victim into silence by threatening the welfare of yet another student. Albus was left with little choice in the matter. The two ruffians were about to Apparate to the Ministry to be brought up on charges of assault upon a minor, with the added charge of using an item of dark magic.

As Severus watched the progress of the four toward the Apparation point, he reviewed the content of the lecture he would be delivering to his Slytherins later that evening. He had called for a house meeting to be held in the Slytherin common room just after dinner where he planned to deliver an admonishment his snakes would not soon forget. Children of Death Eaters or not, anyone sorted into his house was expected to uphold the high standard of behavior befitting the name — Slytherin.

Also lost in thought, Albus continued to organize the plan he'd devised that afternoon. The event on the train with Crabbe and Goyle motivated Dumbledore to revisit the innumerable adversities that had plagued Harry since he'd reentered the wizarding world. It was now clear that a typical education in magic was simply not enough to prepare Harry for all that lay ahead of him.

Convinced that he'd already failed the young man repeatedly, Albus was determined to rectify the situation. That afternoon, he'd spoken to those individuals who would be involved and had arranged for a meeting to be held the following evening so that Harry could meet his new advisory team.

A silvery winged serpent flew directly in front of the two wizards. It swooped and spiraled around them until its antics drew both preoccupied men from their thoughts.

"Ah ... Harry is awake," chimed Albus.

Severus scowled at Poppy's frolicking Patronus. "Need it be so cheerful?"

"Now, now Severus." The two watched as the silvery serpent faded into nothing, now that its mission was complete. "If you will excuse me, I wish to meet with Harry and present my new plan to him. Good luck with your meeting this evening."

"Thank you, Albus. Good luck with Harry, and please give him my regards."

When Dumbledore reached the third floor landing, he turned and stared down the corridor leading toward the hospital wing. His thoughts were consumed with his past choices regarding this powerful young wizard, this teen who was to be the savior of their society. The fact that they'd almost lost Harry three times in just the past four months had left Dumbledore shaken and he was determined to rectify the situation.

He thought back on that evening at the Burrow when he'd spoken with Harry and held the teen as he broke down into sobs. For too long, Albus had thought of Harry as a tool needed to defeat Voldemort, but he had failed to acknowledge that first and foremost Harry was an individual, a young man with emotions and dreams, someone who had faced far too many hardships and someone who was now struggling to cope with his growing magic.

Confident that his new plan would set things right, Dumbledore patted the piece of folded parchment nestled in the pocket of his robe and began walking toward the infirmary.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

"What's taking him so bloody long?" Ron huffed as he paced back and forth. "It's nearly curfew."

"Ron, don't be ridiculous." Hermione cast a Tempus. "We've only been waiting an hour."

She'd barely finished her sentence when the infirmary doors opened and out walked Dumbledore. "Ah, you're both here. Excellent."

"Headmaster, may we visit Harry?"

"I dare say you'd better, particularly you, Miss Granger."

"Me?" she asked.

"Ever since he awoke, Harry has been quite concerned as to your well being. It was all Madame Pomfrey could do to keep him from going in search of you. But do try to keep your visit brief; he is rather drained."

"We will Headmaster, we promise."

Dumbledore continued on his way as Ron and Hermione sprinted into the infirmary.

~~~~~SH~~~~~

Hermione gave Harry a heartfelt yet gently hug when she finally reached him. With tears in her eyes she thanked him repeatedly for his gallantry, forsaking his own well being to assure her safety. Then in the next breath, she scolded him for his lack of good judgment.

"Let the poor man breathe, Hermione."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You're right Ron." She let go and sat back, looking at her friend with concern. "How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm okay." He asked in a whisper of a voice, "Any homework?"

"Nope, everything was mostly review today." Ron stared at the magical encasement Madame Pomfrey had placed on Harry's side. It was slowly drawing the air out of the pleural cavity. "Wow mate, that thing looks bloody awful."

"Thanks." Harry was taking the smallest of breaths. It was obvious to both his visitors that trying to speak was presenting him with a bit of a challenge.

"Don't listen to him Harry," consoled Hermione. "But you do look a little pale."

Harry sank deeper into his numerous pillows. Because he was and would continue to experience trouble with his breathing until his lung had fully inflated, Madame Pomfrey wanted to keep his torso elevated to help alleviate some of the distress. "I'm okay, just really tired, and it's ... kind of hard ... to get a breath."

"Then you just go to sleep and we'll be by tomorrow..."

"Hold on," interjected Ron. "I want to know what Dumbledore had to say. He was in here for bloody all evening. He made us wait out in the hallway, the git."

"Ron!" scolded Hermione.

"Sorry." Ron looked around sheepishly to make sure no one had heard him. "So what did he say?"

Harry lolled his head to the side and nodded toward the piece of folded parchment perched atop of the nightstand. "That."

Hermione snatched up the parchment. "This is a new class schedule."

Harry decided just to nod instead of talk.

"You have additional courses, and..."

What additional courses?" interrupted Ron.

Hermione shot Ron an exasperated look. "Ronald Weasley, must you always ..." Hermione stopped midsentence, silently counted to ten and then addressed Ron in a placating voice. "If you would please be patient for just a moment, I will read the list to you."

Ron and Harry exchanged a silent, knowing look.

"In addition to his regular classes," she continued. "Harry is going to be having an independent study class with Professor Jackson, mentoring sessions with Dumbledore and ... Occlumency with Professor Snape."

"Occlumency? Again?" Ron said in aghast.

Harry pursed his lips and nodded.

"Harry," added Hermione, "that really is for the best. Your scar keeps bothering you and you're still getting those headaches."

He just continued to nod.

"But, we're talking Snape!" exclaimed Ron.

Harry attempted to explain. It really was an effort to breathe and talk all at the same time. "Dumbledore promised me ... it would be different this time. He promised that Snape ... would be nice to me."

"Hey mate, did you know it was Snape who got help for you?"

Again, Harry settled on just nodding his head. He was getting quite tired.

"What about your sessions with Dumbledore?" asked Hermione. "Was he at all specific?"

"My wild magic," he answered in a defeated tone.

Madame Pomfrey called out as she approached the bedside. "All right you two, Mr. Potter needs to get some rest."

"Yes Ma'am," they both answered.

"Rest up mate. We'll come by and visit you tomorrow."

Hermione gave Harry a gentle hug and whispered in his ear, "Thanks again, but don't you ever do anything like that again."

She and Ron waved their goodbyes as they exited the infirmary.

Madame Pomfrey handed her patient a vial of Dreamless Sleep then set about removing the collected air from the encasement.

"I don't think I'll ... even need this. I'm really tired"

"You need a full night of uninterrupted sleep. Drink up, Mr. Potter."

Poppy sat down on the edge of the bed. She generally maintained a no-nonsense approach with her patients, but Harry always seemed to have so many trying experiences and had been such a frequent visitor to the infirmary that she'd developed a soft spot for the teen. "I wish you had come to me sooner. We could have avoided all these complications."

"Sorry."

She shook her head while tucking the blankets around his shoulders. "I wasn't seeking an apology from you, Harry. To be honest, considering all that happened last year, I can understand your reticence."

Harry's eyes started to droop. "Sometimes it's hard ... to know... what to do."

His eyes closed fully and Poppy could tell that he had drifted off to sleep.

She sighed and reached over to brush back his fringe. "What are we going to do with you, Mr. Potter?"

~~~~~SH~~~~~


	8. Beginnings

Thank you again for the favs and reviews; I always love reading your responses and impressions. This chapter is much lighter than the previous ones but it is a landmark in the story: we get a hint of some upcoming teenage sexual exploration, a glimmer at distant magical events and one of my favorite scenes – Harry and Severus' first heart to heart. Enjoy, SHaria

**8. Beginnings**

"What the bloody hell?" Ron muttered in disbelief at the same instance Hermione squealed, "Harry!"

"Mr. Potter! You only need establish the charm; please do not cause a flood in the classroom!" exclaimed Professor Flitwick.

Startled from his preoccupation, Harry now noticed the torrent of water gushing from his wand and shouted, "Finite!"

The flow of water stopped immediately and Harry sighed with relief, but his panic resumed when he noted that his professor was standing ankle deep in water.

"Professor ... I'm so sorry; I'll fix it." Harry panicked and incanted, "Evanesco!"

All the water disappeared as did every bit of detritus. An odd _sucking _sound was heard and felt by all as every spec of dirt, lint and dust disappeared from the floor, the tables, the student's clothes and every nook and cranny.

"Mr. Potter!" The tiny professor cried out in alarm as he raced over and grasped Harry's hand, encouraging him to lower his wand. "I think that's enough for today," Flitwick added in an intentionally calm tone. "Perhaps it best you take your seat."

"Yes sir." Harry felt dazed as he walked to his desk and only faintly heard Flitwick call out for the other students to resume the practical; he did not however notice when professor cast a Patronus charm and sent it flying out the classroom door.

The Aguamenti charm had been the lesson topic for this first Charms class of the semester. Most of the sixth year students could only produce sporadic drips to piddling dribbles of water. But Harry, his thoughts absorbed with all that had been discussed during the Headmaster's meeting that previous evening and anxious over his upcoming Occlumency lesson with Snape, had barely paid attention during the lecture and then failed to notice his overt success when he cast the charm.

Thoroughly embarrassed, the teen sat down and lowered his head to stare at the floor. It was one thing to lose control of his magic in private or in front of the Dursleys, but to have lost control in Charms?

He was beyond embarrassed - he was humiliated, but he also knew he needed to calm down before something else happened. Not sure what to do, he decided to concentrate on taking steady breaths. Counting to ten had helped Hermione the other day, so he gave that a go as well. The breathing and counting seemed to work and his panicky feeling abated. Unfortunately, his goal of avoiding any further humiliation failed when the new DADA professor walked into the classroom.

Channon Jackson, his expression neutral, was the epitome of composure as he stood and listened to Filius relay the events of the Aguamenti fiasco. When the tiny Charms professor had finished, Jackson quietly asked Harry, now thoroughly mortified, to accompany him from the room. This escorted exit from a class marked the second such occurrence to have taken place only three days into the new fall semester.

~SH~

"Why don't you shrink your book bag Harry and put it in your pocket," suggested Channon.

"Professor, I'm really sorry about all of this."

"Not to worry, not to worry."

This wasn't the way Harry had wanted to start things off with his new DADA professor. Dumbledore had said so many good things about Jackson that Harry was actually looking forward to Defense classes this year. Defense and Quidditch were, in his opinion, the only things he did well and now look what happened.

_He probably thinks I'm a dolt_. "Where are we going, Sir?"

"I thought we'd take a walk Harry and have a chat."

"Okay." It wasn't until they were halfway down the great stairway that Harry realized that the professor had been calling him by his first name.

The two wizards walked out to the Great Lake. It was now late afternoon and rather warm outside so the professor stopped, removed his robe and suggested that Harry do the same. They shrank their robes and continued with their walk.

About halfway down the shoreline, Channon asked Harry to relay what had happened in Charms. The professor had postulated a hypothesis and after hearing Harry's accounting, he determined his theory was correct.

"Harry?"

"Yes Professor?"

"When you and I are working together," said Jackson, "I'd prefer it if you use my first name, all right?"

His request surprised Harry but also put him at ease. "Yes Sir. I mean, okay Channon."

The Eurasian wizard smiled brightly. "Super. Let's continue." They resumed their walk. "Now Harry, please tell me what you think magic is."

"What magic _is_?"

"Yes."

Harry thought for a moment. "Magic is … magic."

"Could you be more specific?"

Harry suddenly wished Hermione was there with them. "Uh …" Then an idea struck. "I know ... magic is power."

"Better, but try to be even more precise."

The teen pondered what magic could possibly be and the longer he thought about it, the slower his pace became until finally he just stopped and stood there in disappointment for having failed what seemed like a test. "I guess I don't know."

"Don't worry about it," said Channon reassuringly. Then he picked up a small stone and tossed it into the water. "Do you know what causes the water to ripple when a rock is thrown into it?

"Um, I think it's called displacement or something like that."

"You're right. But exactly what is it that makes the ripples occur?"

Harry offered a timid guess. "Energy?"

Channon smiled broadly. "Yes! You're absolutely correct; it is indeed energy." He tried once more. "Now let's try again; what is magic?"

It seemed so obvious now. "It's energy. Magic is energy, right?"

"Yes, magic is energy." Channon continued, but now with a passionate zeal. "Harry, everything in the universe has this energy: the planet, the trees, the water, the rocks; they all have this energy."

This was a novel concept to the young man and he thought about everything having its own energy. Then, the memory of what had just happened earlier in class surged back into his thoughts. "Yeah but these rocks don't go around flooding classrooms and I don't think a tree would break all the windows in my Uncle's house."

"No, they wouldn't," he paused for effect, "but neither are they you."

"Huh?"

"Harry, you must realize that you possess a tremendous amount of this energy, or as we call it — magic. This isn't a bad thing; it's a good thing."

"Not if I can't control it." Harry picked up his own pebble and threw it out into the water. "And I don't know why it's getting worse."

"How old are you?"

"I just turned sixteen last month."

Channon held his hands out to the side as if to say — there you are.

"What do you mean?" Harry imitated the motion. "I don't understand."

"You'll soon reach the age of majority."

"Yeah, I know; I'll legally be able to do magic whenever I want."

"There's more to it than just that."

"Like what?" He was growing more and more perplexed by the second.

The expression on Channon's face marked his surprise at Harry's naivety. "You'll come into your full power."

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with not being able to control my magic? Everyone gets their full power at seventeen but you don't see them going around accidentally making the castle shake."

The professor sighed with exasperation. "That's because you're you!"

"Oh," Harry responded softly. "I understand," his voice sounded very small. "I always mess up in class, get into trouble, and..."

Channon interrupted the teen mid sentence, "No wait, you misunderstood me. I'm not talking about grades or school rules; I'm talking about the enormous amount of magic you possess." He looked imploringly at the baffled young wizard. "Hasn't anyone ever spoken to you regarding this possibility?"

His query was greeted with frustration. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I can see that!" Channon leveled right back.

Harry gasped. "Oh Merlin, I yelled at a professor. I'm sorry Sir, I didn't mean ..."

"Don't worry about it." Channon placed a consoling hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know you've been through a lot this week."

Then he pulled out his wand and pointed it toward the castle. "Expecto Patronum." A large silver tiger erupted from the end of the wand and flew up toward the Headmaster's tower. Harry watched with amazement as the powerful Patronus sailed off out of view, then turned and looked questioningly at his professor.

Channon cleared his throat and took a determined breath. "Harry, I am going to explain everything to you, right here and now. You must understand exactly why you are having these surges and that you are not alone in this phenomenon."

~SH~

Almost two hours later, Harry and Professor Jackson strolled into the Great Hall for dinner. Harry headed toward Gryffindor table and sat down next to Ron.

"Where've you been? The Headmaster told us you'd be late and not to worry, but nothing else."

"I fixed a plate of food for you and placed a Warming charm on it," added Hermione.

"Thanks Hermione, I'm starving." Harry noticed that she'd included a rather large spoonful of vegetables. He sidetracked the vegetables and dove in on the roast and potatoes.

"Are you going to tell us what made you so late for dinner?" Hermione pressed.

Harry swallowed quickly, "Why didn't you two tell me what a great teacher Cha... Professor Jackson is? "

"Just when were we supposed to do that? Let's see…" Ron stared at the ceiling while precariously waving around a spoonful of chocolate gateau. "Were we supposed to tell you during the two minutes we were allowed to see you Monday night? Or perhaps on Tuesday when we were all in class and you were still in the infirmary; or how about Tuesday night, when you were in your meeting with the Headmaster, Snape, Channon and McGonagall?"

"Okay, okay ... I get the point." Harry said and then decided to give the vegetables a try. "Anyway, he's great. He explained everything to me."

Harry then relayed to his friends what the professor had told to him regarding his wild magic.

Hermione had been about to take a sip of pumpkin juice but then stopped suddenly, her glass held suspended halfway from the table to her lips.

"You okay there, Mione? asked Ron.

"I'm trying to recall if I've ever read of such occurrences. Certainly something should have been mentioned in Modern Magical History or one of our Magical Theory books."

"I don't think it would Hermione, cause' it doesn't happen very often. According to Professor Jackson, this has only happened to Merlin, Dumbledore, Voldemort and now… me." Harry ducked his head with embarrassment as he finished this proclamation.

"Wow," commented Neville, "you must feel so important."

"I wouldn't put it that way." Harry sighed. "Mostly I feel relieved, cause' I really thought I was starting to lose it."

Harry continued to eat his dinner, content to just listen as his friends chatted about his extraordinary measure of magic, his approaching majority, how all these magical surges were just a hint of what his ultimate magical level would be and how only a handful of wizards had ever experienced magical surges during this stage.

Relieved to finally have an explanation for his wild magic, Harry found that he actually had an appetite and he worked away at the large plate of food Hermione had prepared for him. He contentedly stared off at nothing in particular while all the discussion continued on around him; his friend's voices were a mere buzz in the background of his reverie.

The sound of scraping benches snapped him out of his daze and only then did he realize he'd been staring straight at Anthony Goldstein who was in turn, returning the gaze.

Anthony winked and offered a subtle, wispy grin, just before raising his tall, statuesque frame from off the bench. He passed a lingering glance over Harry before turning to leave the Great Hall. Harry quickly dropped his gaze back down to his now empty plate, feeling awkward at the sudden fluttering sensation.

~SH~

As Friday's sixth year Transfiguration class drew to a close, the students began to pack away their books, parchment and quills.

"Attention, please," Professor McGonagall clapped her hands to restore some order. "Next week we shall begin our study of human transfiguration. Please read chapter two in your text and prepare a one foot long synopsis which I will collect on Tuesday. Your synopsis _will_ be graded. Have a nice weekend," she ended in a cheery voice.

Ron immediately began to complain about the assignment. "I can't believe she gave us all that work to do over the weekend. I was hoping we could get in some serious Quidditch practice."

"I think we should use this free period and go straight to the library," suggested Hermione. "We could at least finish the reading by suppertime."

"Can't." Harry quickly stowed away his copy of _A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_. He cast a surreptitious glance before continuing in a whisper, "This is my scheduled session time with Helena."

"Oh, no worries mate. We'll cover for you."

"Thanks Ron."

"We'll see you at supper," added Hermione. "Come on Ron, you and I can get started on that assignment".

Ron rolled his eyes and sighed as Harry raced out of the classroom.

High on the seventh floor, down the quiet corridor which housed the entrance to Headmaster's office was situated a sitting room just past the Gargoyle. The Headmaster had had the elves prepare this room as a comfortable, private location for Harry and Helena to conduct their continued sessions.

When Harry entered the room he saw Helena already seated in one of the richly upholstered chairs, sipping a cup of tea. "Hi Helena, sorry I'm late."

"You're not late. Why don't you get yourself a cup of tea and relax a bit before we start."

She watched him prepare a cup, "You're looking so much better then you did on Tuesday. How is your breathing?"

Harry sighed as he sat down with an _Oomph,_ "Oh, fine. Really, I feel good."

"I'm relieved to hear that; and how are your classes going?"

He took a sip and squirmed in his chair a bit before answering, "Well, aside from missing the first two days cause' I was in the infirmary, and then flooding the Charms classroom on Wednesday, everything else has gone pretty well."

Helena's raised eyebrows told Harry that his smoothing over of events was not going to slip by without being discussed. By the time he'd finished repeating the conversation he'd had with Professor Jackson and all the implications and relief it entailed, then thoroughly hashing out Harry's own thoughts and emotions on the subject, nearly an hour had past.

"I must say, you seem very composed for such a monumental realization."

"To be honest — I'm relieved cause' for a while there I thought maybe Voldemort had something to do with the wild magic. But it isn't him, it's me, and Professor Jackson is going to help me learn how to deal with it. I have my first private class with him tomorrow morning."

"I'm happy for you, Harry. Now, our time is almost up; is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

The incident with Anthony flashed through his mind but he didn't dare bring up that topic. Then there was the ever looming, dreaded Occlumency session with Snape later that evening. "Yeah, there is."

"What?"

"I'm supposed to have an Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape this evening. My lessons with him last year ..." he lowered his head, "didn't go very well." His voice trailed off as he finished his sentence.

"Yes, you mentioned this during one of our sessions at the Burrow."

"Oh yeah, I guess I did."

"As I recall, you felt that Professor Snape's instructions were vague."

"You could say that again."

"Why don't you simply ask him to please present his instructions using different verbiage?"

Harry's head shot back up. "You're kidding, right Helena? Me? Ask Snape to use … what did you say — different verbiage? I think he'd shrink me and stick me in one of those jars he has sitting all over the place."

She laughed. "Just give it a try, Harry. Of course, phrase the request in your own words, and be polite."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I could try."

~SH~

Earlier that week, when Professors Snape, McGonagall and Jackson had met with the Headmaster, prior to Harry's arrival at the meeting, they'd learned the details of the plan Dumbledore had developed.

As Harry's Head of House, Minerva was briefed on the increasing episodes of magical surges, the additional training he'd be receiving and the scheduled times for such. Dumbledore had asked Channon Jackson, who traditionally worked at the Ministry as an Unmentionable and specialized in channeling magic, to work with Harry one on one and teach him the tools he'd need to deal with his ever growing power. Then, turning to Severus, Albus had implored that he resume teaching Occlumency to the young wizard. The threat from Voldemort still existed; the ongoing headaches were a constant reminder that the Dark Lord was out there somewhere, biding his time. To the Headmaster's surprise, Severus actually embraced the task, seeing it as an opportunity to hopefully make amends for his past injustices.

It was now Friday evening; Severus was sitting at his desk grading a pile of essays from the third year Potions class: _Suspension Solution, or Pot of Poison_?

He cast a Tempus and noted that only six minutes remained until the scheduled first Occlumency lesson. He set the essays aside, stood up and stretched his tall lean frame then began to pace slowly around his office as he cast frequent glances toward the door.

On the other side of Snape's office door stood Harry; he'd arrived fifteen minutes early, determined not to be late. He was also just as determined to stay calm in order to keep a handle on his wild magic. _Not in front of Snape; I will not lose control in front of him_. He was taking steadying breaths while counting: four counts on the inhale, four counts on the exhale. He didn't know what else to do, but this seemed to help. He'd cast Tempus after Tempus while staring at the door, waiting, taking his breaths and counting. It was now eight O' Clock. The time had come. Harry raised his hand, and knocked.

When Severus opened the door, both men were immediately uneasy at being in each other's presence. This was the first time they'd been alone (at least to Harry's recollection) since that fateful Occlumency lesson last semester.

"Come in, Mr. Potter"

Harry kept his sights lowered and quietly entered the office. "Good evening, Professor."

With Severus' new found awareness of Harry's history, he could now see the obvious diffident nature of the teen. Unfamiliar, rudimentary seeds of compassion arose in his heart and the shame of his past transgressions washed over him anew.

"Please follow me," he said and headed off toward his side chamber with Harry following warily behind him. This room was in complete contrast to the office they'd just left and the teen was awed by its elegance.

The walls were paneled in oak, stained a deep mahogany color and highly lacquered. Row upon row of books lined two of the walls and a fireplace occupied yet another. The floor was covered with a beautiful Persian rug, its designs portrayed in colors of emerald and silver. In front of the crackling fire was positioned two dark green, velvet wing-back chairs.

"Wow," Harry whispered.

"Please sit down, Mr. Potter."

"Yes Sir." Harry looked all about the room as he went to sit down and was startled when Snape turned from the sideboard carrying two cups.

"Would you care for some tea?"

"Thank you, Sir." Stunned by the kind gesture, Harry took the offered cup and watched as Snape sat across from him. If he hadn't known what to make of Channon using his first name, he was at a complete loss over Snape being downright cordial. Perhaps this was a ploy, some way to catch him off guard. He now looked down at the liquid in the cup with suspicion.

"It's Chamomile tea, Mr. Potter." Severus said plainly. "I thought it might help us both to relax a bit."

Harry took one small, tentative sip and then waited for some sort of reaction but nothing happened, so he tried another.

As Harry worked on trying to relax, Severus was busy gearing up for one of the most challenging undertakings he'd ever faced — apologizing to Harry Potter.

For decades now Severus had successfully carried on his duties as a spy; he'd stood face to face with Voldemort, killed, and had committed other atrocities he dare not recall. But to apologize alluded to vulnerability and that was something Severus adamantly avoided.

Keeping an eye on the young man before him, Severus waited until Harry had visibly relaxed before proceeding. "Mr. Potter."

"Yes sir?" _So much for tea_, thought Harry, _Here we go._

"Before we proceed, I wish to acknowledge my mishandling of these lessons last semester. I admit the impetus that drove my egregious endeavors was vicious but far worse; I had acted upon misguided conceptions of you. I offer you my repentance and assure you that henceforth, my aim toward a positive result will be genuine."

Harry stared bewildered at his dreaded Potions professor. Although Snape had spoken in circles, it seemed as though he'd just apologized.

The teen sat motionless for a few moments then, not realizing he was doing it, Harry stood up and moved slowly toward one of the bookcases and leaned against it.

"Are you unwell, Mr. Potter?"

_What's going on here?_ Harry wondered. _Why did he do that? _He turned to face Snape. "Why are you apologizing to me now, Professor?"

The apology had been difficult enough; to go into his reasons was not something Severus cared to pursue. "Things have changed," he offered simply with a slight tip of his head.

"What things? Not me, I'm the same person I've always been."

Harry's straightforward words cut through Severus' masquerade. There was no verbal dance to counteract sincerity. Now it was Severus' turn at bewilderment, something to which he was not accustomed. As an accomplished spy he excelled at ploys, facades and emotional manipulations. He found this entire business of emotional honesty alien, but avoiding it was fast becoming impossible.

On a personal level, Severus was determined to make amends, but beyond that lay a greater issue, that being the fate of all humanity. Harry was one of if not the most powerful wizard alive, and he had been prophesied as being the only one capable of defeating Voldemort. But for Harry to succeed he needed to learn Occlumency, and Severus was determined to teach it to him.

Yet Severus was no fool. Occlumency and Legilimency were both perilous, yet delicate. To work with a student so powerful would create the distinct possibility of exposing private thoughts and experiences. His solution to this threat the previous semester had been to use the Pensive, but that had been a folly, he could see that now. No, to truly succeed Severus would have to set aside his safeguards and instead venture into that unfamiliar, dangerous realm of emotional honesty.

"No Mr. Potter, you haven't changed, but I have." Severus rose and walked over to the young wizard.

"I have been terribly unfair to you these past five years. I used you as a convenient scapegoat for my resentment toward your father and other personal issues. I regret my actions and I wish to apologize to you. You have no cause to forgive me; to be honest, I wouldn't hold it against you if you didn't."

"I want to apologize to you too, Sir."

Severus actually started at Harry's unexpected response. "Whatever for?"

"That last lesson, when I broke into your mind, I didn't mean to do it. I've never told anyone what I saw; I'm sorry it happened and..."

Severus raised his hand. "I realize that was an accident." He then lowered his hand and in turn held it out toward Harry. "May we start anew, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked down at the professor's offered hand and thought about everything that had been happening to him lately: the magical surges, Helena helping him gain insight, Dumbledore and now Snape reaching out to him. It was as if his entire life was shifting to take a new course. He knew of the prophecy and of his awaiting destiny; perhaps all of these things were coming together to help him achieve it.

Hardly believing he was doing this, he slowly raised his own hand and grasped that of Professor Snape's.

As he stared at their clasped hands, Harry nodded and whispered "Okay." Then he lifted his gaze, allowing his emerald eyes to drift up to meet the ebony ones and the two men looked upon each other as if for the first time.

~SH~


	9. Discoveries

We finally get a glimmer of Snarry and another heart to heart between Severus and Harry. Thanks for all the favs and reviews. All rights belong to JKR. Happy holidays to everyone. SHaria

**9. Discoveries**

Fall settled upon Hogwarts, bringing a chill to the air and coloring the surrounding trees in hues of amber and gold. The students had eased into a familiar routine of classes and homework, and the Quidditch season was about to get underway.

For Gryffindor, Harry's reinstatement to the team alone was cause for celebration; the inhabitants of the tower were filled with eager anticipation as the first match of the season, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, drew near. The pitch was in high demand and it constantly occupied with either full team workouts or individual athletes practicing high over its grassy surface.

It was Saturday morning, the last weekend in October. Ron had managed to snag the morning time-slot and his team was now halfway into their three hour practice. Positioned all around the pitch, the Chasers and Beaters executed drills and relays while Harry soared high above them.

Anyone watching would have been impressed with his lighting speed and tricky skills, but the Searcher knew that he was rusty. It had been a long time since he'd done any serious flying, not to mention having competed in only one solitary game over the past two years. All the same, he was thrilled to be back on his broom and was determined to return to top form.

This morning he had practiced various maneuvers, executing them over and over again as he tried to hone his technique. With less than one hour of time remaining, Harry decided to work on increasing his speed but just as he leaned forward over his broom, his scar leveled a particularly painful stab which forced him to stop suddenly and slap a hand to his forehead.

"You okay up there Harry?" asked Katie Bell.

"Yeah, I'm fine; it's just my stupid scar," he rasped. _Damn it, why can't he just leave me alone?_ He'd barely finished the thought when his head began to ache.

Determined not to let the pain end his practice prematurely, Harry was about to continue when an idea struck him. _What if I do that natural energy thing Channon keeps talking about?_

As part of their lessons, Professor Jackson had introduced Harry to the ancient practice of _Qi Gong_ as a way to tap into the natural energy surrounding him.

Harry envisioned all this energy surrounding him, leaned forward once again and took off across the pitch. Immediately, the stinging and headache lessened and his speed increased phenomenally so that in a matter of seconds, he shot out past the boundaries of the pitch.

Amazed at what had just happened, he pulled up hard and turned around but when Harry stopped focusing on the energy, the burning sting and headache returned with a vengeance.

"Oh no you don't," he gritted out.

He focused again on the natural energy and imagined drawing it to him and through him. Then he took a deep breath and headed back toward the pitch. Once again the pain subsided and once again when he ceased his efforts the pain returned.

_Could this be the answer?_ He thought incredulously. _This is so simple._

The young wizard decided to conduct an experiment and so he flew to the ground and took a seat on one of the bleachers. His headache was now so intense that he thought he might throw up but instead of succumbing to the pain, he focused all his concentration on all the natural energy surrounding him and mentally formed it into a shield.

Ron had seen Harry fly to the ground and then walk over to sit in the stand. Worried that something might be wrong, he flew down to join him. "You okay there, mate?"

Harry raised his hand, silently asking Ron to give him a moment. Maintaining this _shield_ was requiring every bit of effort he could muster. The attack ended shortly thereafter and Harry leaned back to rest against the bleacher behind him. "I don't believe it."

"Don't believe what? What are you on about?" Ron was really starting to worry. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I did it, Ron! I finally did it!"

"Did what?" Ron was baffled. "What are you on about?"

Harry jumped to his feet and then onto his broom. "I've got to go and tell him!"

But Ron lunged and grabbed a hold of Harry's broom before he could take off. "Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!"

~SH~

With Ron finally appeased, Harry flew up to the castle and reached the potions lab just as two second years exited the room after an apparent detention. He stepped past the teary eyed youths and quietly entered the room where he saw Snape seated at his desk with his forehead resting on the splayed fingertips of his outstretched hand.

"Merlin give me strength," Harry heard Snape mutter and he wondered dejectedly if this reaction played out after each of his Occlumency lessons.

They'd met half a dozen times since that first meeting when Snape had laid his cards on the table and asked for a truce. But despite both their efforts, Harry continued to struggle with Occlumency, its principle of barricading one's mind always seemed beyond his grasp but much to his relief, Snape had been surprisingly patient and had yet to insult him. Granted, the man was always sarcastic but Harry had begun to appreciate the dry sense of humor.

Snape lowered his hand and then deftly hid his surprise at the sudden appearance of Harry, standing in front of him clad in full Quidditch garb. He raised one brow and slowly eyed the teen up and down. "The Quidditch pitch is _outside_ the castle, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled at the snide comment and his eyes all but sparkled with excitement over his news.

Being on the receiving end of such a genuine expression unsettled Severus. Though he would never admit it, he had always been taken with Harry's emerald eyes; he found them attractive if not mesmerizing. Perhaps it was because they reminded him of his old friend Lily or perhaps it was the simple fact that Harry's eyes were just damned gorgeous but whatever the reason, the fact that these beautiful eyes were now fixed upon him caused an unanticipated stir in his groin.

He was immediately annoyed at himself over his unexpected and completely inappropriate reaction. _He is your student_, Severus reprimanded himself. _The bloody 'Chosen One' and someone entrusted to your tutelage. Get a grip on yourself, you fool._

Thoroughly frustrated with himself and his uncooperative groin, he slapped on his well practiced dead-pan persona and hid his true reaction with a guise of acerbity. "Oh, do let me guess; you couldn't find the Snitch and thought it might be lurking in my lab, under some stolen Gillyweed perhaps?"

Admittedly, that one did hurt. Harry's smile and excited expression vanished. _I was wrong, he hasn't changed. He's still a greasy git._ "I'm sorry I disturbed you, Professor," he said and turned to leave.

Severus inwardly kicked himself. He'd been trying so hard to put forth a good effort toward Harry but sometimes he just couldn't help himself. "No Mr. Potter, please wait. I ..." The word caught in Severus' throat; he just couldn't bring himself to utter that unpleasant word, _apologize_, twice in one month. "My comment was unwarranted. The detention that just ended was a bit wearing and I had no cause to vent my frustrations on you. Please, you seemed quite zealous before my unfortunate remark. Why did you come to see me?"

Harry stood halfway out the door, vacillating whether or not to try again. His insecurities told him that he was a fool for thinking that Snape would care and that he should high-tail it right back to the pitch, but his formidable tenacity held its ground. He turned instead, stepped back into the room and looked Snape straight in the eye. "I did it."

The little furrow between Severus' brows arrived on cue. "Did what, exactly?"

Despite a valiant effort, his response came out a bit shaky. "Occlumency."

A few moments of silence followed Harry's declaration and then with a flick of his wand, Severus slammed the door closed and erected a silencing ward. "Explain," he demanded.

Harry told Snape all about the events that had taken place during practice. Then he explained how Professor Jackson had been teaching him about natural energy and that he had tried to visualize it into a shield to protect him from Voldemort's attack. "I know it sounds crazy, but it worked." He finished with a shrug of his shoulders.

Severus rose from his seat and crossed the room to where Harry stood, his robes swishing with every step. "You claim that instead of closing your mind, you called upon nature's energy to form a shield _around_ you?"

"I don't know if that's exactly what happened, but that's how it felt ... Sir."

The look Harry received from Snape was difficult to describe, but he was certain the professor was about to hex him.

"Prepare yourself."

"Excuse me?"

"I wish to see for myself."

"Here?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Of course _here._"

"But there's no grass, or trees, or anything like that down here."

Up went the eyebrows. "Your method only works _outside_?"

"Uh, I don't know, Sir." He felt like a fool and thought he might be blushing. "I suppose I could give it a try."

Severus released a long, drawn out sigh then again gave the order for Harry to prepare himself.

"Wait!" Harry quickly put up his hand. "Just give me a second to get ready."

Although Harry's impertinence annoyed Severus to no end, he was beginning to find this foible a bit endearing. He waited in silence and watched Harry close his eyes. After a few moments, he opened them.

"Okay, I'm ready." The young wizard stared straight ahead and tried as hard as he could to visualize the natural energy surrounding him.

Severus raised his wand. "Legilimens."

His incantation was delivered gently and he used great care as he tried to penetrate the young man's mind. To Severus' surprise, Harry did maintain his shield.

Severus ceased his efforts and lowered his wand. "Well done, Mr. Potter."

Harry's eyes grew wide as saucers. "I did it?"

Snape answered with one short nod.

"I can't believe it. I did it! I really did it!"

"I wouldn't rest on my laurels just yet, Mr. Potter," he said coolly.

"What do you mean?"

"My endeavor was executed with minimal effort. We shall try again only this time, I will use greater force."

"Oh." Harry felt dejected. "Let me just get ready."

Snape tapped his wand against his thigh as he waited for Harry to prepare himself. As soon as he received the go-ahead he once again raised his wand and uttered the incantation.

Harry could feel Snape try to get in, so he focused as hard as he could to maintain his shield. It held and kept Snape at bay for a few moments more, but then all of a sudden _Uncle Vernon was shouting at him, he was falling down the stairs, his aunt was screaming and his head was exploding with pain_.

~SH~

"Harry?"

Harry felt someone tap his cheek.

"Can you hear me? Wake up."

Harry opened his eyes and squinted at the sight that greeted him. Sitting directly in front of him was Snape with what appeared to be a look of concern.

"What happened?"

But before Snape could reply, Harry remembered exactly what had happened; he laid his forehead on his palm. "Oh God."

"Drink this, it will help."

Now he felt Snape touch his shoulder and he could smell something kind of woody and sweet. "What is it?" He asked with a raspy voice.

"Ginkgo tea infused with Jasmine."

Harry took a small sip and then leaned his head back against the chair.

"Take another sip."

He tried to sit up a little straighter and took another sip. After a few moments and a few sips of the tea Harry was able to think more clearly. "I guess my shield didn't work after all."

Severus decided that Harry could now manage to hold onto the cup by himself; he handed it to him and then sat down in the opposite chair. "Your shield does not emanate from your surroundings," he finally said. "The barrier I encountered was generated from within you."

Harry held onto his cup with both hands and kept it near to his face for it seemed that even the aroma from the tea helped to clear his mind. He did notice that Snape was calling him 'Harry' but at the same time he couldn't muster much of a reaction. Then the words Snape had just said finally registered in his foggy brain. "From inside me? How can that be? I've never been able to do that."

"Perhaps you have and didn't realize it as such, but you must understand that with true Occlumency the mind is protected from intrusion by means of focused thought. What you did was to create a barrier, a shield if you will, around your mind."

"You mean like a Shield Charm?"

"You did not cast a charm." Severus paused and thought about what it was he had experienced. "I encountered an actual force of some sort." He steepled his fingers and continued. "You mentioned implementing a technique Professor Jackson taught you."

"Yeah, it's some sort of ancient Oriental practice."

Severus dismissed the vague description and attempted to reason what the correlation might be. As he did so, he absently began to weave a lock of his hair around his fingers. For some reason this movement rather intrigued Harry. Still a bit dazed, he sat contentedly and watched the slick black hair twine around Snape's long fingers.

"I will speak with Professor Jackson this evening regarding the matter." He noticed that Harry was staring at him. "Keep drinking the tea."

The baritone voice stirred Harry from his hair twining induced trance, "Yes, sir," and he downed a few more sips.

Snape let go of the lock and sat quietly as he pondered this phenomena while on the other hand, Harry started to think about what Snape had seen when he broke through the shield: his uncle — purple faced and full of rage, Harry being pushed down the stairs, his aunt screaming at the top of her lungs.

Now the tea didn't seem quite as soothing and in fact, the memories were making him feel downright nauseous. "Sir, I'm sorry you saw all of that."

Harry's words and tone of voice drew Severus from his musings.

The young wizard was now staring at the fire with his hand cupped over his mouth and chin. No doubt he was embarrassed at having his dirty laundry aired before his professor.

Harry's expression of shame and embarrassment began to stir a memory in Severus that he had shut away long ago. In a soft voice, Severus uttered a beautiful lilting string of words. "L'ho provato sulla mia pella." *

Harry turned his gaze from the soft orange glow of the flames to the ebony eyes of his professor. Snape was looking straight at him; yet at the same time, he seemed to be looking far away and his typical hard set expression had been replaced by a look of sadness.

"What did you say, Professor?"

Harry's query pulled Severus from his melancholy. "Did you ask a question?"

"Sir, you said something ... but it was in some other language. I didn't understand what the words meant."

Snape nodded slightly and folded his arms across his chest, as if shielding his heart. "The words are Italian. They mean, "I have experienced that on my own skin."

Harry didn't know if it was the fact that he still felt dazed or that Snape was calling him 'Harry' but nothing was making any sense. "I'm sorry Sir, I still don't understand."

"It's a metaphor," he said in a downcast voice. "It means - I have also been scarred in this way and I know exactly what you're going through."

~SH~

It was now late in the afternoon. The Quidditch practices had finished for the day and the area around the pitch was quiet.

As Harry flew slowly back to the changing rooms, his thoughts kept whirling around what Snape had said about also being scarred. _What did he mean by that?_ Harry wondered. _Were his parents abusive? Maybe that explains why he's the way he is. I wonder if he was beaten, like me. Could I turn out like him, angry at everything and everyone?_

Harry shook his head at the prospect and landed by the large beech tree next to the building that housed the changing rooms. He stood there a few moments, absorbed in thought. _He opened up to me. Snape told me something personal about himself. He even called me Harry._

He took his time walking over to the door as he recalled how Snape had stood up abruptly moments after divulging this secret, stated that he needed to attend to another matter and then shooed Harry out of the room.

Harry was completely absorbed in his thoughts when he went to grab a hold of the door knob, but before he could open it, the door flung open and smacked him in the face, shoving his glasses hard into the bridge of his nose.

"Ouch!"

"Merlin Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was there."

"Well, you shouldn't go flinging doors open like that." Harry didn't even know who he was talking to as he'd removed his spectacles and was cupping his sore nose with his hand.

"Here, let me take a look."

"It's fine."

"But you're bleeding."

Harry pulled his hand away and even though everything was a blur, he could see the red stain of blood on his hand. "Oh great."

"Come on, let me take a look."

He lifted his head and froze when he realized who this person was — Anthony Goldstein. Inches taller than Harry, Anthony had bent over to get a good look at the cut; their faces were now only inches apart.

"I think I can fix that."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, just hold still."

Anthony raised his wand and incanted "Episkey." He then tried to survey his handiwork. "I can't see anything for all this blood." He cast another charm to siphon off the blood and was now able to see where the cut had been. "It looks healed; how does it feel?"

Harry gingerly touched the bridge of his nose. "It's okay, thanks." He went to put on his glasses only to discover that they were now bent. "God damn it."

"What?"

"It's a Muggle saying," he huffed. "Now what am I going to do?"

"Come on, you get changed and I'll fix your glasses; they're just bent a little here in the middle."

Anthony led the nearsighted teen into the locker room and went about trying to repair the spectacles while Harry got changed out of his Quidditch robes. He'd only just pulled on his jeans when Anthony handed him the glasses.

"Give them a try now."

Harry put on his newly repaired spectacles and looked about the room, "I think you did it."

"Good," sighed Anthony. "Look, I'm really sorry." He watched Harry pull on a T- shirt and then sit down next to him.

"It was just as much my fault. I was thinking about some stuff and not paying attention to where I was going." He sighed and stared off across the empty room.

"Something wrong?"

Harry chuckled, "Seems like something's always wrong."

Anthony placed a tentative hand on Harry's shoulder, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry didn't know what surprised him more, Anthony's hand on his shoulder or the fact that it felt kind of nice. "I can't."

The tall teen withdrew his hand, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"It's not that." Harry turned to face Anthony and the movement inadvertently caused his knee to push against the outside of Anthony's thigh. "I really wish I could ... you know, talk about it, but I can't." He felt awkward about what his knee was touching so he moved back his leg, but then Anthony turned so that now his knee pressed against Harry's thigh.

"Well, if you ever do need someone to talk to, I'm ... available."

Harry stared at the Quidditch gear laden cubicles in front of him with that word 'available' ringing in his ears.

So much had happened in such a short period of time. The feeling of Anthony's knee pressing against him was unsettling yet intriguing. "Thanks Anthony," he answered softly. Once again Harry's mind was whirling; in addition to all that had happened on the pitch that morning, then the Occlumency fiasco, Snape being nice to him and even sharing something that was obviously personal and private, calling him 'Harry' no less and now this encounter with Anthony — Well, it was all a bit much to take in.

"Come on," said Anthony. "It's time for dinner and you look like you could use a good meal."

The two teens strolled slowly back up to the castle. They chatted about classes and the upcoming Quidditch matches, Harry shared a little bit about what he had learned from Jackson and how the Professor was helping him get a handle on his episodes of wild magic. Talking to Anthony was so different from talking to Ron or Hermione, or any of his other friends. He'd never really spent time with Anthony but had often noticed him from a distance.

Anthony Goldstein reminded Harry of Cedric: tall, good looking, popular and he excelled in all his classes. He couldn't understand why someone like Anthony would want to spend time with him but he did know that as he walked next to the good looking teen, Harry felt — something. Maybe it had to do with all that aura business Channon was always talking about and he wondered if one person's aura could connect with another person's aura.

Anthony could sense Harry's preoccupation so he intentionally kept the conversation light. Truth was, ever since he'd acknowledged and had come to terms with his sexual preferences, he'd had an eye for this dark haired, green eyed wizard. So unlike himself, Harry had this spirited, dauntless quality and despite his impressive magical powers, there was a vulnerable side to him that Anthony found endearing. He'd wondered about Harry, never having seen him with any girlfriends except for that brief awkward fling with Cho. So with the serendipity of this afternoon's run in, Anthony had decided to test the waters and was optimistic by the outcome. Not sure where Harry was with his own self discovery, Anthony thought it best to take things slow.

"I was going to do some studying in the library tomorrow; would you like to join me?"

Tomorrow being Sunday, Harry had planned to camp on the floor of the Gryffindor common room and plow through his mountain of homework. The prospect of Anthony and a quiet library definitely sounded more appealing. "Sure. What time do you want to get together?"

"How about just after breakfast?"

"Okay, sounds good." Harry wasn't sure why, but he suddenly felt a bit giddy.

They stopped just before they reached the doors to the Great Hall and were out of sight of everyone already inside eating dinner. Not sure how to handle things, Harry tentatively looked up toward those hazel eyes.

Anthony smiled, "You go in first. I'll wait here a minute and then go in."

It had been so nice being near Anthony that Harry found he really didn't want to leave his side. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow." Then he turned and slipped through the doorway of the Great Hall.

Anthony watched Harry disappear around the corner and felt a flutter of anticipation.

~SH~

Author's notes:

* This Italian metaphor was lifted from the book: Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, tale 24.


	10. Personal Matters

The action gets notched up a bit from the previous G rated material. Thanks for hanging in there with that and thanks for all the favs and reviews.

**10. Personal Matters**

"Merlin, you're fuckin my... rrgghh... ass off."

"I don't ... pay you ... for conversation," Severus ground out as he slammed himself into the attractive young man beneath him.

"I'm not ... complaining, mind you. I'm just wondering ... oh yeah, there …" He then continued after a few moments, "What's gotten into ya?"

"Nor do I ... pay you to ask ... questions." Severus gripped the sinuous arms of his prostitute and growled when he climaxed. His orgasm came hard and he milked it as long as he could, pumping out every last drop.

He had needed this release, needed a way to clear away the feelings of trepidation that his personal demons were about to break free.

He had locked them away so long ago - these echoes of past personal traumas and though they remained imprisoned, these scars continually inked their presence upon the man via acerbity, distrust and a need for personal isolation.

It was his recent work with Harry that had caused the problem, this business of emotional honesty and the growing realization of their common turbulent childhoods; it all gave fodder to the rising dome of these old-time foes, pulling them up from their tomb.

Severus didn't want to face them; he couldn't face them and his tactic of avoidance had been to dole out acrimony and insults upon those he encountered. But now that wasn't working, neither was brewing potions late into the night until he was ready to drop. He had nowhere else to go and no one else to whom he could turn.

"Oh baby, you've been gone way too long. Why have you stayed away? I'm always here for you ... you know that."

Severus was spent and it took him a moment to catch his breath. "Don't call me baby." He drew a couple more breaths and then slid off the bed.

"You're not leaving, are you? Come on, you can have me the entire night."

Severus made his way to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He always wore a glamour when conducting such affairs and never divulged his name. "I cannot stay."

"Well, in that case, as much as I love this scenario when you're fucking me, I don't much care to stay bound if you're leaving."

Severus walked slowly back to the bed and looked down at the comely prostitute lying naked and bound. He took his time to fasten each and every button of his frock and robe - one by one, then he finally raised his wand, "Finite."

Now free of the magical bonds, the rent boy sat up and began to rearrange the pillows. "You're a real charmer; you know that don't you," he teased as he reached for a cigarette and lighter.

Severus moved toward the door and tossed the customary fee on the sideboard.

"Oh no baby, don't leave. We can have a drink and a smoke, then go at it again."

Annoyed at the endearment, Severus ground his teeth and grasped the door knob. He could easily justify staying here with this talented hooker, the diversion would be a distraction and postpone the return to his empty quarters where reality would yet again lay its trump card on the proverbial table.

"I cannot stay," he repeated and his voice this time was uncharacteristically shaky.

"When will I see you again?"

Without answering, Severus opened the door and quietly slipped out of the dingy room.

~SH~

Harry leaned against the tiled wall of the shower and melted under the spray of hot water that pummeled his aching shoulders and back. He methodically stroked himself and took his time coming, hoping that the hot water and orgasm might help him unwind after another long day.

It was so late and he needed to get to bed, for tomorrow's agenda would be just as full as this day's had been.

He reluctantly finished off and then quietly padded back to his dorm room. These late nights were occurring more and more frequently, the aftermath of the evenings when he was scheduled to work with either Channon or Snape only to arrive back at the tower and an awaiting pile of homework. It wasn't unusual these days for Harry to fall into bed well after midnight.

All his dorm mates were sound asleep when he slipped into the room, and even though his body was tired from this evening's workout with Channon, his mind just wouldn't shut down. He went over and sat on the windowsill by his bed to lean his forehead against the cool glass and stare out at the stars.

Harry was frustrated with the inconsistencies of his spell work and Occlumency, not to mention the ongoing episodes of wild magic. Granted, the physical exercise and Qi Gong were helping but the sporadic, enormous bursts of magic continued surge through him.

His thoughts moved on to Anthony. It seemed as though he couldn't stop thinking about Anthony, about every part of Anthony. _How did this happen?_Harry pondered again, for the umpteenth time, just when it was that he'd begun to prefer boys over girls. If he really thought about it, he supposed the first people he'd ever noticed were Cedric and Cho. She was always so pretty, but Cedric was awesome: tall, good looking, confident. Harry could still remember the first time he met Cedric, that time they were all going to the Quidditch finals. But that made Harry think about the Tri-Wizard Tournament, then the graveyard, Fifth year, Sirius.

_Stop it, stop it, stop it_, he thought to himself. _That's in the past__;__ you can't change any of it. _

Harry sighed, closed his eyes and tried to think about how everything was different now, how Dumbledore and Snape had changed and about the new people in his life: Helena and Anthony. A little smile crept across his mouth and he touched his lips as he recalled what had happened just the previous day.

iHe and Anthony had been on one of their walks. They'd been doing a lot of that the past couple of weeks - walking, talking and touching. Anthony wanted to know everything about Harry and Harry wanted to know everything about Anthony. On Wednesday, after Herbology, they had decided to take a walk before heading back up to the castle and were passing the greenhouses when Anthony suddenly took Harry by the arm.

"Come here."

They ducked into the potting shed and Anthony pinned Harry gently against the wall. Pressed against each other, they could feel each other's hard young torsos.

"Harry, would it be okay if I ..."

Harry answered Anthony's question as he leaned in close and nodded ever so slightly.

With infinite care Anthony embraced and held Harry's lips with his own. The kiss was gentle and sweet. He didn't want to rush Harry, knowing that this was his first time with a boy. Then he let go and looked down just in time to see those long lashes sweep up.

They looked into each other's eyes, held each other and felt each other's hardness. They started to kiss again, but this time the kiss deepened as Anthony pulled Harry to him. Their strong arms wrapped around each other and pressed their bodies even closer. This closeness quickly led to urgency; Anthony stopped the kiss and pulled back just enough so that now their lips barely touched. Harry looked up, not knowing why the kiss had stopped.

"Are you all right?" Anthony asked. He wanted to make sure that Harry was okay with all of this, and the desperate look in those emerald eyes told him that he was.

So Anthony began to kiss Harry again, slowly. He took his time, gently kissing his way all around those pink lips and every so often, he'd slip his tongue inside for a tantalizing brush.

Harry had never French kissed before and had always been a little nervous about the whole idea, but what Anthony was doing with his tongue was soon driving Harry crazy.

They began to explore each other's mouths and felt each other grow even harder. Amidst all this passion, Anthony managed to also tease and play, using the tip of his tongue to tickle a molar and reaching his hand inside Harry's front jean pocket to gently take hold of him. The way Anthony varied the intensity of what they were doing, alternating between amazingly passionate and gentle play made Harry feel relaxed and safe.

Anthony revved things up again and this time their need and want grew to the point that they began to bump and rub against each other. They held each other tightly as they both climaxed quickly and when it ended they leaned against the wall, completely spent.

"You okay?"

"Oh yeah." Harry answered in a breathy tone. "Bit of a mess."

Anthony looked down and giggled. "I'll take care of it." Heremoved the evidence of their frottage with a quick cleansing charm.

Harry was about to say how incredible that had been, how safe Anthony had made him feel, and how he didn't know coming could feel like that but just then the sound of Professor Sprout's voice cut the air.

"I have them right here for you Severus." Her clunking gait vibrated on the wooden floor of the forth greenhouse. "Cut them myself for you just this morning."

The sound of her heavy steps was now followed by ones that were softer and evenly timed.

"Let's see, where did I put them? Oh, now I remember; I put them in the potting shed for safe-keeping."

Anthony and Harry's dreamy state disappeared and became one of sheer panic. They looked at each other and simultaneously, silently mouthed the words — Oh fuck!

Harry grabbed Anthony's hand and dragged him post haste to behind the shed door where they stood flat against the wall.

The matronly witch gave the door a shove as she entered the shed; Anthony in turn grabbed the handle when it bounced against him and held it in place.

"Oh yes, here they are. A particularly fine crop we had this year."

They heard the sound of Snape step up to the doorway.

Harry had already formed his shield, for Snape was now so accustomed at entering the young wizard's mind, Harry feared that just being near the man would be enough to alert him of his presence.

"See Severus, they're absolutely magnificent."

"We are discussing Abyssinian Shrivelfigs, are we not Pamona?"

"Yes, but just look at them."

"Ah yes," he placated the old witch, "truly stupendous."

The two teens, with their hearts pounding, listened as professors Sprout and Snape walked back into the greenhouse. They dared to move a muscle as they waited until the voices and footsteps moved off and all became silent.

They crept out slowly from their hiding place and cautiously peered around the corner. The greenhouse was indeed empty, the door leading outside was closed and they were once again alone.

They fell against each other and broke into laughter.

"Oh my God, (Anthony had started using some of Harry's Muggle phrases) I can't believe that happened."

"I can't believe we didn't get caught," added Harry. "My shied thing must really be getting better. I thought we were goners."

"What do you mean - goners? What does that mean? Really Harry, you're dead cute, but you do speak a different language."

"Come on, we better get back. I'll explain on the way."/i

Harry smiled and sighed. Feeling infinitely content, he knew that now he'd be able to sleep and was just about to slide off the sill and go to bed when a movement outside caught his eye.

Someone had just passed though the front gates and was now walking across the wide expanse of lawn leading up to the castle.

_It's Snape_, Harry realized. _What's he doing out there so late. I wonder if he was summoned. But my scar didn't hurt tonight_. He thought as fast as his tired mind would permit, _Could Voldemort be back_? He watched Snape ascend the steps and then disappear through the front doors.

Harry slid off the sill, tip-toed over to his bed, crawled under the covers and let his head sink onto the pillow. With thoughts of kissing Anthony and wondering where Snape had been, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

~SH~

The commotion of the breakfast hour echoed throughout the Great Hall with sounds of cutlery against plates, students and teachers chatting, and the scraping of benches against stone.

Harry sat munching a piece of buttered toast while reading his textbook: Negative Magic for Positive Means. Ensconced in his book, he'd managed to drown out the din around him until the misplaced sound of subtle voices caught his attention.

He glanced up from the text and saw Hermione intently surveying a tear in the sleeve of Ron's robe; but it was the way she was doing it that held his attention.

With one hand resting on Ron's forearm, she meticulously inspected the loose threads of the hole with the other, occasionally slipping her fingers into the hole.

As he watched the pair inspect the intricacies of this hole, Harry started to think about Anthony and all the touching they'd been doing lately. He drew a sudden deep breath when his groin started to stir. _Knock it off or you'll wind up with a bloody hard on_.

Just then, the post owls flew into the hall and their arrival was marked soon thereafter with sounds of shock and concern. Hermione had only just started to read the first page of the Prophet when she gasped, "Oh no."

"What?" asked Ron and Harry simultaneously.

"An orphanage in London collapsed. Everyone in the building ..." She laid the newspaper down and stared straight ahead.

"Mione! Tell us what's happened."

She looked at them with an expression of shock and sadness. "Everyone in the building ... they all died."

"Let me see that." Ron grabbed the paper and began to read aloud as his classmates gathered round him to listen.

Harry shot a glance at the Head Table to see who was present and who was not. Dumbledore, Channon and Snape were all missing. The memory of Snape's late night return flashed through his mind.

_I wonder if Voldemort had something to do with this?_

A small Tawny swooped down and deposited a letter atop Harry's toast and the teen startled when he read the name of the sender.

With everyone around him still focused on Ron and the article, Harry was able to slip the post into his book bag unobserved and when he sat back up, he urgently scanned the Ravenclaw table for Anthony. There he was, doing the same thing as Ron, reading the distressing article as his housemates crowded around him.

Then it started, that subtle anxious feeling. Harry had come to realize that this odd feeling always preceded one of his bursts of magic. He knew that he had to leave the hall quickly, in case his wild magic got away from him.

"I'll catch up with you later," he said to Hermione. She acknowledged his words with a nod and then returned her focus to the article about the orphanage.

Harry snatched up his bag and quickly exited the Great Hall. He then he slipped out the front doors and crossed the courtyard to duck behind a massive Yew.

He dropped his bag to the ground and grabbed onto two of the thick branches. There was no way to stop the surge from happening but at least he could try to lessen its intensity. He began to draw in deep, steady breaths and mentally visualized himself grounded to the earth.

An intense prickling sensation swept through his entire body. The surge lasted only seconds and when it subsided, Harry was left winded. He leaned against the thick conifer while he caught his breath, and then realized that the huge plant was covered with light green, new growth, and that the grass all around him was inches taller.

The chimes sounded, indicating the start of classes. Even though he was still a bit shaky and winded, he slung his book-bag over his shoulder and headed wearily back into the castle.

~SH~

Severus tipped his head, encouraging his hair to fall forward and hopefully curtain yet another yawn. The predawn summons from Albus had been particularly jarring after his late night tryst. Now well past sunrise, he and select members of the Order were still in the Headmaster's office, discussing the collapse of the orphanage in London.

The fact that this orphanage was the same one where Tom Riddle was born and had spent his early childhood had warranted this emergency meeting of the Order.

With his position as liaison between the Ministry and the Muggle British authorities, Kingsley Shacklebolt had been one of the first wizards on the scene and had immediately requested Auror backup. Shacklebolt had arrived only a few minutes previous and had just finished delivering his report.

"You're quite certain?" asked Albus.

Kingsley's cello voice rumbled through the room. "Yes Dumbledore. We searched the entire area for evidence of Death Eater activity and found nothing."

The old wizard looked over to Severus once again. "And you felt nothing?"

"Do you think I am withholding information?" he asked sharply.

"Of course not, Severus."

"I would have noticed if the mark had burned." Severus was definitely out of sorts this morning.

"Exactly, my old friend. That is why I am concerned..."

"As am I," interrupted the spy. "Either this disaster was a coincidence or the Dark Lord has discovered my true allegiance."

"The Muggles believe the explosion and collapse of the building resulted from a build up of gas in the pipes. It was an old building ..." Arthur continued to relay the mechanics of such a possibility when a slight tremor occurred. It lasted only seconds and went unnoticed by most of the wizards and witches in attendance, all except for Albus, Severus and Channon.

The three men immediately recognized the signature of this disturbance and exchanged worried glances.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Arthur."

Surprised, the redhead stopped mid-sentence. "Yes, Albus?"

"Classes are about to begin." He turned to face Severus and Channon. "Gentlemen?"

The two wizards took their cue and immediately exited the office to go check on Harry.

~SH~

"It didn't feel as if he was inside the castle," commented Channon.

They had reached the bottom of the spiral staircase just as the chime sounded for classes.

"We really do need to set up a means of tracking of him," Channon continued. "Perhaps if Dumbledore assigned all the portraits to keep an eye out for him. Really Severus, how else can we know if he's been injured or some damage has occurred?"

"A means already exists." Severus stopped and called out, "Dobby."

"What?" asked Channon.

"Not what, but who," replied Severus.

The small house elf appeared before the two professors. "Yes professor, Dobby is here." He was so short and they were so tall that he only managed to reach the height of their knees.

"Where is Mr. Potter?"

"Oh Sir, Dobby is seeing Harry Potter near the front courtyard, but when Dobby is coming to see you, Harry Potter is coming back inside."

"Was there any damage?" asked Channon.

Dobby paused his response as he debated whether tall grass and an old shrub growing inches would be considered damage.

"Was he injured?" asked Severus.

"Sir, Dobby is thinking that Harry Potter is very white."

Channon stared at Dobby, uncertain as to meaning of his statement.

"That will be all," said Severus and the little elf immediately disappeared.

The sound of hundreds of students ascending the stairs, drifted up to the professors location on the seventh floor.

"White?" Channon asked.

"I would assume he meant pale."

"I have the sixth years for Defense right now; I'll check on him." Channon started off down the steps but then paused. "What's your gut feeling about last night?"

Severus glanced down at the sea of rising students; they were still at least two floors below. "You heard Shacklebolt. If it was the Dark Lord, he acted alone. I will only know for certain once I have been summoned."

Channon shook his head. "I don't know how you do it."

Severus skirted the praise. "We'd best be getting to our students."

~SH~

Hermione walked toward the very back of the library and peered around the last bookcase. There was Anthony seated at the usual table in the corner but she was surprised to see that he was alone.

"He's not here?" she whispered.

Anthony shrugged his shoulders. "Nope."

She sat down next to him. "I thought he'd be here," she said softly.

"Do you think he knew someone at that orphanage?" asked the tall Ravenclaw.

She shook her head. "No, I'm certain he didn't."

Just then, Harry walked around the bookcase.

"Where have you been?"

"Budge over."

Hermione moved over and Harry sat down between them.

"Where's Ron?" He asked as he covertly took a hold of Anthony's hand under the table.

"Remember, he has that detention with Madame Hooch," she responded in a huff. "Merlin's sake, why can't he learn to control himself."

"Oh yeah," Harry did indeed remember the crude gesture Ron had given to one of Ravenclaw's Beaters during their last game.

"So what's going on?" she continued.

"That," said Harry as he tossed the post he'd received that morning on the table.

Hermione grabbed the letter and began to read it while Harry leaned close to Anthony and whispered in his ear, "It's a long story I haven't told you yet."

Anthony turned so that his cheek touched Harry's."Are you okay?"

He felt Harry shake his head - no.

Hermione gasped. "Oh that ... How can he be so impersonal?"

"May I read it?" asked Anthony, his calm voice was a stark contrast to Hermione's hissing tone.

She passed the letter to Anthony, who in turn squeezed Harry's hand as he began to read.

_Dear Harry, _

_My apologies for not having written soonre but I've been busy with duties for the Old Crowd. _

_I was curious how you were doing after the events of last June. I know all of that must have been hard on you and I wish I had some helpful advice, but knowing your tenacity, you've probably been able to put it behind you._

_My sincere wishes to you for a successful school year,_

_Remus _

Anthony looked at Harry who was in turn staring at the table; the expression on his face was as hard as that of the wood.

"Hermione, would you excuse us?"

"Sure." She leaned over and gave Harry a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you two later."

Anthony waited until she'd gone. "Can you tell me about this business with Remus?"

"Yeah, but not here."

"Okay." Anthony looked worriedly at his boyfriend. "Let's go for a walk; I want to hold you for a while. You can tell me later when you're ready."

~SH~

Severus's quill flew down the right side of the parchment, leaving a trail of red colored comments in its wake. He assigned the grade of 'T' at the top, then set the test aside and started on the next one.

He was nearly at his wit's end with the pile of tests and assignments yet to be graded and to top off all of that - he had another session with Harry in just a few minutes.

He was about to cast a Tempus when he heard a knock at his door.

"Come," he snapped.

Harry startled at the tone of Snape's voice. _Uh, oh._ The wary teen opened the door and hesitantly entered the office.

"Put down your things, Mr. Potter," Snape ordered without looking up from the test he was now correcting, "then stand in the center of the room."

Harry was either _Harry_ or _Mr. Potter_ depending on Snape's mood.

Since he hadn't brought anything with him, Harry just stepped forward to the middle of the room and waited quietly. He had wanted to ask Snape if he knew anything about the orphanage, but now he wasn't sure if he should.

Snape scribbled the grade with a particular flourish then set the test aside and tossed his quill on the desk. "Are you ready?" he asked, drew his wand and moved to the front of his desk.

_Here I go._ "Sir?"

"What," Snape snapped.

"Do you know if Voldemort is back?"

"Don't say his name!"

"Sorry, Sir."

"Why do you ask?"

"I just thought that, since you came back so late last night, that maybe ..."

Severus almost had a coronary. "What I do and where I go are none of your concern, Potter."

Harry really knew he'd done it that time; he hadn't been just _Potter_ all term.

"I haven't much time this evening; have you practiced your shield?"

The incident in the potting shed flashed through his mind. "Uh, yes Sir."

"Very well, let's proceed."

Severus raised his wand but before he could utter the incantation, the Dark Mark on his arm flared to life; the burn was so severe that it caused the wizard to double over in pain.

"Sir!" Harry rushed to Snape's side and tried to help him stay upright.

"I don't need your help, Potter."

"Sir, what's wrong? Shall I get Madame Pomfrey?"

Snape tried to push Harry away. "Get out of my way. I have to go."

"Sir?" Harry was at a loss to understand what was happening; he'd never seen what Snape went through when he was summoned.

"I said get out of my way. I can't be late."

And then the reality of what was happening struck the teen like a sledge hammer. "No, don't go. Please don't go; I've seen what happens when he calls you. Please don't go, Sir."

Severus couldn't understand Harry's concern. "I must go; this is my job." He struggled toward the door.

"Can I help?"

Snape was on his way out the door. "Get my cloak; it's over there," he said and nodded toward the closet. He was halfway down the corridor by the time Harry caught up to him.

Harry tried as best he could to get the cloak over the tall wizard's shoulders as he continued along the corridor.

"Go tell Dumbledore what has happened," Snape ordered as he struggled up the stairs. He couldn't believe how severely the mark was burning; it had never been this bad. Then he realized that Harry had a hold of him and was helping him up the stairs. "Tell him that I'll report in as soon as I return."

When they reached the landing, they saw a couple of students filtering across the entry hall. Snape looked down at Harry and shook his head.

The teen let go and stepped away but continued to stare up at his professor, his eyes full of concern.

Snape was momentarily caught up with those beautiful eyes but then he noticed Harry's lips and realized that the young man had recently been kissed, and quite thoroughly by the looks of things; they were swollen and just a slightly deeper shade of pink than usual.

"Listen to me, Harry. I'll be fine. Now go and tell the Headmaster what has happened." He nodded his head toward the Great Staircase.

Harry held his ground and silently mouthed the words, _Please don't go._

All this genuine concern being lavished upon him was not what Severus needed at this moment. He was on his way to meet with the Dark Lord and he needed to stay focused. He leveled a hard stare down at the worried teen and whispered, "Go."

With great reluctance Harry crossed the entry hall and started to ascend the staircase. About halfway up, he paused and turned around just in time to see Snape exit the castle.

~SH~


	11. The Return

Thanks everyone for your communications and favs; I love reading the different impressions. So, things get kind of intense in this chapter. Fasten your seat-belts! SHaria

**11. The Return**

The memory of Harry's worried expression haunted Severus as he made his way toward the front gates. He knew that the summons would take him directly to the awaiting Dark Lord and so he pushed the image to the back of his mind then stepped past the wards and Apparated away from Hogwarts.

He arrived in the center of a large foyer that was embellished with sculpted marble and intricate woodwork. This place had obviously been grand in its day but the current lack of repair and stagnant air spoke of dormancy, as though it had stood empty for a long time.

He was greeted, for lack of a better word, by Peter Pettigrew and was directed to his left where he quietly slipped through the doorway and entered a drawing room of vast proportions; it was empty save for a dais that supported an ornately carved, gilded chair upon which sat the Dark Lord.

The other Death Eaters that had already arrived were all on their knees with their heads lowered. Severus bowed deeply and then fell into ranks along with the others. When all had arrived, Voldemort stood to begin his address.

His speech was reminiscent of the one he had delivered at the graveyard in Little Hangleton two years previous. He offered no details about where he had been the past few months but he did share an overview of his current ambitions, after which he began to hold private conversations with each of the higher ranking officers.

They were instructed to wait in the drawing room until they were called, at which time they would report to the sitting room where these councils were being held. It was well past midnight; Severus had watched as all the others were summoned and was now the last one remaining. He was finally called and when he entered the room, he glanced only high enough to get his bearings.

"Come in Severus."

The spy kept his head bowed and his Occlumency in high gear as he moved toward the center of the room and sank to his knees. "My Lord."

Severus was the epitome of supplication as he listened to Voldemort offer a few kind remarks and then request updates regarding the activities of the Order and of Dumbledore.

He had only tidbits of information to offer, as things had been fairly quiet — up until the previous night with the bombing of the orphanage. Severus relayed how the Ministry had sent officials to investigate the scene but that they had found no evidence of Death Eater involvement and had determined that the collapse had been an unfortunate accident.

"Very good," Voldemort said as strolled about the room. "And now my dear Severus, tell me about … Harry Potter.

"I can report that the boy has recently been experiencing magical surges."

Voldemort actually gasped. "He has? That is very interesting."

Severus heard the Dark Lord pass near as he approached the dais.

"And what is Dumbledore doing about these surges."

Having not heard the Dark Lord speak in many months, Severus took note of the manner in which he caressed each word, inflecting his voice up and down as he traveled across a sentence, always lingering upon any word that ended in an s.

Severus relayed the identity of one Channon Jackson and how Dumbledore had brought him to Hogwarts with the express purpose of working with Potter. He also added the fact that the Chosen One and the new professor had developed a friendship.

"Oh this is delicious. I knew I wanted you last, Severus; you are always the icing on my cake."

Voldemort then gave the potion master his assignment to start brewing fresh batches of potions, elixirs and draughts, and to immediately relay any and all occurrences of import having to do with Dumbledore, the Order and of course — Harry Potter.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Speaking of whom, how has the boy's health been this year?"

"His health, my Lord?"

"Yes, his health."

It was times like this that Severus' quick mind was put to the test. He knew the Dark Lord was fishing and that he had to deliver; the challenge was to provide just enough information to satisfy but withhold that which could prove dangerous, and he had to do all of this whilst he Occluded before one of, if not the most highly skilled Legilimens.

"Except for the times my Lord engages the boy he is otherwise in good health."

"Tell me, exactly what happens to him when I engage him."

"He experiences headaches and discomfort in the vicinity of his scar."

"Hmmm."

Now Severus heard the rustle of robes as the Dark Lord resumed his seat. "And lastly, will the school be holding their traditional Halloween feast this Saturday?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And Dumbledore will be there?"

"Yes, my Lord?" Severus' acknowledgement sounded more like a question.

"You see I have planned some exciting events to take place this Samhain."

Voldemort reached down and placed one finger under Severus' chin, encouraging him to look up.

"I have a task for you," Voldemort said softly. "Tell that old fool for me; tell him to post Aurors wherever he thinks I might strike. Also, tell him that I am planning a surprise just for him. Then, at the feast on Samhain, you will watch him so that you can later tell me of his reaction."

"His reaction to what, my Lord?"

"Oh but Severus, if I told you … it wouldn't be a surprise."

~SH~

Harry sat in the windowsill by his bed to wait for Snape's return, but he wound up falling asleep around two o'clock and woke up the next morning with an aching back.

Severus had returned from his meeting with Voldemort relatively unscathed, all except for his sore knees, and immediately met with Dumbledore to relay the Dark Lord's message.

The old wizard knew immediately that his former pupil was toying with him, but what could he do other than to play along?

He contacted the Ministry and the Order, warned them that Voldemort had planned attacks to take place on Samhain. Not knowing where these attacks would occur, all that could be done was to have every Auror and member of the Order on alert, ready to respond at a moment's notice. But Voldemort's talk of a surprise and his request that Severus watch Dumbledore had the old wizard puzzled.

~SH~

On the eve of Halloween, Anthony was conducting his Prefect's rounds and had timed his route so that he could intercept Harry as he returned from his Occlumency lesson.

He'd been quiet and pensive the last couple of days and Anthony was determined to find out what was wrong.

Harry had just reached the sixth floor and made the turn to start up the next flight of stairs when Anthony stepped out from a nearby alcove; he waved his boyfriend over to him.

Surprised and delighted, Harry looked about to make certain no one was around and then hurried over to him. "Where did you come from?"

"I was doing my rounds."

"But I thought Padma did rounds on Friday night," Harry said in a teasing tone as he saddled up close and began to kiss Anthony all along his jaw line.

"I traded with her," he said distractedly. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Forget talking," Harry whispered and then ran his tongue along the contours of Anthony's ear.

"Harry, stop doing ..." His sentence trailed off when Harry reached that little soft spot right behind Anthony's left ear.

But the teen regained his senses and gently pushed away Harry, his expression now crestfallen. "God, you're cute."

"So kiss me," Harry pressed.

"No." Anthony did however give Harry one quick kiss of apology. "I want you to tell me why you've been so down the last couple of days."

Talk about ruining the mood; Harry's entire being sagged in an instant. "It's because of tomorrow."

Anthony brushed his thumb across Harry's cheek. "What's happening tomorrow?"

"Samhain," he answered softly. "It's the day Voldemort killed my parents and gave me this." He quickly touched his scar.

Anthony froze for only a second and then pulled Harry tightly to him. "Merlin, I'm so sorry. How could I have been so dense?"

Harry didn't say anything.

Anthony continued the embrace. "Listen, we'll spend all of tomorrow with each other."

"I'd really like to spend tomorrow with you." Harry's voice was muffled against Anthony's chest. "All I have Quidditch practice in the morning, after that I'm free."

"Hold on — I have a Prefect meeting at one o'clock and then I'm leading an Arithmancy tutoring session at three." Anthony sighed with frustration, "Damn."

"Don't worry about it," said Harry. "I'll be okay."

"No wait, I have an idea. We'll slip away early from the feast." Anthony loosened his embrace just enough so that they could look at each other. "I know your parents died at night," he paused and kissed Harry gently. "So I'll stay with you. I'll stay with you all night."

It was a moment before Harry could respond. Then he whispered, "Thanks for caring about me."

Anthony whispered back, "Oh Harry, I don't just care about you," he said and gazed into those beautiful green eyes. "I love you."

This was the first time Harry had ever loved someone and had been loved by someone in this way. "I love you too."

Then they began to kiss.

Anthony never did finish his rounds that night.

~SH~

The first attack took place the first hour of Samhain with the British embassy in France; it collapsed the same way the orphanage had in London. The ambassador, his family, the staff and two visiting dignitaries all died. The second attack occurred the second hour of Samhain. This time it was the French Embassy in Britain. These attacks continued throughout the day, one each hour, all to Embassies, all in different countries, each one resulting in fatalities and destruction.

~SH~

Dumbledore stepped gracefully from his Floo.

"What is the report, Albus?" asked Minerva as she stood to vacate his desk chair. As Deputy Headmistress, she'd been keeping an eye on things while he'd been at the Ministry that afternoon.

Dumbledore shook his head as he sank wearily into his chair; it had been a trying day. "Not good, I'm afraid." He looked to his long-time friend. "I greatly fear the ramifications of this day. The loss of so many ambassadors and diplomats will undoubtedly have wide-spread consequences."

"Those poor Muggles."

"Oh Minerva," the tone of his voice reflected his surprise at her elitist attitude. "The events of this day will affect us as well. The ramifications of today present numerous opportunities for Voldemort's advancement; obviously these losses will put a diplomatic and possibly an economic strain on the countries involved."

"But Albus, surely ..."

"We haven't the manpower or the necessary time to establish relations with these different countries."

"Don't you think you might be over-reacting?"

"Over-reacting?" He repeated her words as he stood up, leaned over the desk and continued emphatically, "We've been fools! Can't you see that? We live in this myopic bubble and barely concern ourselves with the greater world around us!"

"We have enough to deal with!" She countered in her Scottish brogue that lent a bite to her words. "What the Muggles do..."

"What the Muggles do could very well affect our lives! What if Voldemort keeps up with these attacks?"

She cringed when he said the name.

"What if he starts killing the Muggle leaders? What if the Muggles start warring upon each other? Can't you see how that would affect us?" He had to pause for a moment as he'd gotten himself worked into a state.

"Albus please sit down; let me get you a cup of ..."

He continued as if she hadn't said a word. "We have only one liaison! In all this time, we've managed to establish relations with only one Muggle country."

A forlorn expression fell upon his face. "We haven't the time to catch up with him; he acted so quickly."

Then Dumbledore turned to look out the window and spoke in a quiet tone. "Now I know Tom; I know what you've been doing all these many months, you've been planning." He released a small chuckle. "You were always the smart one, and we have been the fools."

"Albus," Minerva said cautiously, hesitant now to say a word. "In light of what's happened, do you think we should cancel tonight's feast?"

The old wizard reached out and stroked Fawkes who responded with a beautiful trill.

"Oh Minerva, the children love this feast. How can we deprive them the happiness of their youth?"

"All right then," she sighed. "I'll tell the elves to get on with the preparations."

~SH~

The elves prepared special dishes and desserts for that evening's feast; they decorated the Great Hall with floating Jack-O-Lanterns and even conjured a Banshee to fly around the hall on her broom to swoop down and toss candies to the younger children.

All through the celebration, Anthony sat and watched Harry over at the Gryffindor table. It had been a frustrating day, knowing what Harry was going through and not being able to be with him.

He decided that they had waited long enough; Anthony levitated a piece of candy over to Harry's plate of untouched food.

The sweet landed on a piece of roast and startled Harry from his preoccupation; he looked up and saw Anthony nod in the direction of the side door and silently mouth the words - _Let's go._

Harry nodded and amidst the chatter and activity in the Hall, the two slipped away unnoticed to all, except but one.

The Headmaster noticed the two young wizards exit as he sat and pondered the calamities of the day. In fact, it had been the main topic of conversation that evening for nearly everyone at the Head Table and the majority of the older students.

A House elf appeared next to Dumbledore and handed him a note.

He knew right away what this would be and, taking the missive with a sense of forebode, he unfolded the parchment and read—

_Shacklebolt to Dumbledore,_

_Building collapse reported at 20:45 BST_

_Structure: Town Hall_

_Casualties: None. Building vacant at time of collapse_

_Location: Little Whinging, Surrey_

His breath froze in his chest as he read those last three words; he looked out over the sea of students and whispered, "It's Harry, the surprise is Harry."

Dumbledore turned to his right. "Minerva, get Poppy." Then he rose quickly and beckoned for Severus and Channon to follow him.

They moved swiftly to the side door where he'd seen Harry exit. Now, out of sight of those in the Great Hall, the three wizards ran full bore across the side chamber and out through the open French doors but the sight that greeted them stopped them in their tracks.

Anthony was sprawled on the ground with blood was running from his nostrils and ears. Harry was suspended motionless with his arms out-stretched; an iridescent green light swirled around him as if he were encased in a shimmering green eggshell.

Dumbledore and Severus started for him but Channon called out, "No! You can't go near him."

The three men watched helplessly, desperate to do something.

"We could try erecting a ward around him," suggested Channon.

"Wards already exist around the castle, obviously they are ineffective against whatever this is," responded Dumbledore.

Just then, Harry screamed, "Noooooo!"

"I'm going to try and help him Occlude."

"No Severus, it's too dangerous," warned Dumbledore.

"What choice do we have?" retorted the ebony eyed wizard. "If we don't help him, he'll die."

There was no contradicting his words.

"He's right," added Channon.

"Albus," Severus said in a softer tone. "I am replaceable; Harry is not."

The old wizard looked at his longtime friend and shook his head in defeat. "Please, be careful."

Severus turned and cautiously approached the shimmering field and when he reached its perimeter he closed his eyes and began to Occlude, then he stretched his efforts outward to include Harry and was immediately bombarded with images as he was sucked in to witness a battle of memories.

_He was inside a small dark place._

_Uncle Vernon was hitting him._

_He stood in a crib and saw a green light as his mother screamed._

_He was tied to a tombstone and watched as Wormtail dropped some horrid thing into a cauldron—_

Then Severus was suddenly watching a different set of images.

_He was sitting all alone in a small dingy room._

_He was one of many children all dressed in the same gray uniform._

_He was consumed with emptiness and bitter jealousy —_

Now he was back in Harry's memories.

_Sirius was falling through the veil._

_A train rolled by and he wanted to step up on the tracks — _

Voldemort again.

_He was slithering on the ground while consumed with a crushing sense of exile and frustration._

_He felt shock as Harry Potter pushed the bead of light back along the thread connecting their wands— _

Back to Harry, but now these images were of a different nature; they were memories embraced with love.

_He was being held by Mrs. Weasley._

_He sat on the grass as Dumbledore wrapped his arms around him._

_He stared into hazel eyes and was filled with love —_

All of a sudden, the shimmering green shield that surrounded Harry exploded and shot out in all directions, the force of it knocked both Channon and Albus to the ground and hurled Severus backwards through the air. Harry fell limply to the ground and lay in a heap.

Channon was the first to come to his senses. "Albus, are you all right?" He reached over and helped the old wizard to a sitting position.

"Yes, I believe so." He looked over and gasped at the sight of the victims sprawled upon the ground.

Just then, Poppy and Minerva came upon the scene. "What happened?" One of them called out.

"See to the boys," Dumbledore ordered. "Channon, go help them. I'll check on Severus."

Severus was lying flat on his back, staring up at the star filled night-sky. He saw several people run by in his periphery then a familiar face was hovering over him. It was Albus and he was speaking to him but Severus couldn't hear what he was saying.

He began to lose consciousness and as he did, the emotion from that last memory — the feeling of Harry's love, came and wrapped itself around him and stayed with him as he sank into blackness.

~SH~


	12. Fallout

Thanks for the reviews and favs. Enjoy, SHaria

**12. Fallout**

_He floated in a sea of black; it was silent here and he felt at peace. But he wasn't alone; something had come with him. It had followed him in and then wrapped itself around him like a thick soft cocoon and held him safely in its warm embrace. _

_He heard a noise. It was very faint, yet still the noise was too much to bear and threatened to pull him from the embrace, and so he drifted back into the warmth. _

_Eventually his sense of awareness reached beyond the loving warmth of his cocoon and when he heard that faint noise again, he was able to identify it as a voice. Someone was talking to him. _

_He wanted to sink back into that soft cocoon of love. It was familiar to him now and he didn't want to leave it. _

"Severus, wake up. You need to come back to us. Please wake up."

The pull of the voice was strong, so much so that he began to rise up from his quiet place. He left behind the darkness and the love as he rose up to the light and finally opened his eyes.

~SH~

A heavy fog had settled over the London area just after Samhain and for three days now it entombed the city in a gray blanket of wet.

Bellatrix Lestrange pulled her cape tightly to her in an attempt to ward off the permeating cold as she walked briskly along the cobblestone road of Knockturn Alley.

She glanced up briefly to the falling minute droplets and sneered. "I hate fog," she grumbled, just before she yanked open the door to Skulkin Bar, stepped inside and immediately surveyed the room.

The patrons had looked up when she had entered but had immediately returned their attention to their drinks as soon as they realized who it was. They all knew Bella, and knew it was best not to draw her attention.

She flipped her cape from off her shoulders, pulled her long black hair out from under the cloth and ran her fingers through it to try and offset the effects of the heavy mist.

"Whiskey soda," she barked to the bartender and waited impatiently as he got her drink.

With her drink now in hand, she strode confidently across the bar and through a back hallway where, at its end, she entered a small room to her left.

"What took you so long?" asked Mulciber.

"I was detained," was all she offered as she set down her drink and took a spot between Avery and Dolohov. "Has anyone heard anything new?"

They all shook their heads, no.

"Why did he stop us?" She asked. "Everything was going perfectly. I don't know about any of you, but my building was spectacular."

"If you'd been on time, you'd know that everyone's buildings were _spectacular_, and must you do that in public?"

"Do what?" she looked up in surprise.

"That!" he pointed at her hands.

She simply huffed and went right back to flicking her wand to touch up the chipped polish on her nails.

"Can we please get back to business?" implored Dolohav. "We all know we can't bring down those buildings without help from the Dark Lord. Until he orders us to resume, our hands are tied."

"But why did he stop us?" asked Bella again, this time more emphatically. "No one has answered my question."

"That's because we don't know!" snapped Avery. "Don't you think the rest of us are frustrated?" His voice now rose with exasperation. "First he's gone for months. Finally he returns with this stupendous plan but then he stops us after only one day of operations. It makes no sense. What could have happened?"

~SH~

Far off in Little Hangleton, a stumpy short wizard stood outside the bedroom of his master; with a trembling hand he timidly knocked upon the door. "My lord, I have your broth."

"Enter."

Peter Pettigrew quietly entered the room and saw that the Dark Lord had finally made it out of his bed. He was now reclining on the chaise lounge, staring blankly out the window.

Peter scurried over and set the bowl of broth on the small side table then went to fetch a warm throw and returned to Voldemort's side.

"My Lord?" he asked hesitantly.

Voldemort glanced over at the soft woolen blanket and nodded.

Peter made absolutely certain not to touch his master as he spread the blanket over his legs.

"Is there anything else my Lord requires?"

Voldemort shook his head. "Leave me."

"Yes, my Lord." Peter bowed deeply then hurried out of the room.

Voldemort continued to stare out at the shadowy silhouettes of the shrubbery and trees as they peered back at him through the heavy fog.

He couldn't actually remember Apparating back to his mansion. All he remembered was waking up in his bed the day after his attack on Harry Potter, and then lying there for yet another day, immobilized by shock.

He was still in shock, or better yet, stunned; stunned with disbelief that Harry Potter had once again overpowered him.

The first time had been all those years ago in Goderic's Hollow. Potter's second victory had taken place two years previous when they dueled in the graveyard. Then the annoying brat accomplished this impossible feat yet again last year, when Voldemort had tried to possess him. And then there was Samhain, just three days ago.

He'd been certain that this time his method would succeed, but it hadn't. His efforts to use Legilimency to rip apart Potter's mind hadn't only failed, it had backfired as the boy had managed to enter _his_ mind.

This personal attack was almost beyond Voldemort's ability to comprehend or accept. "How dare that impudent child attack me!" He said the words aloud, and just thinking of it again made him tremble with ire.

He knew he had to find some way to stop his annoying nemesis. Dueling was not an option, for their wands were related. Nor could he possess the boy and now, apparently, he couldn't even use Legilimency.

As the afternoon wore on, his cup of broth long forgotten, Voldemort continued to lie upon his lounge and ponder the challenge of how he could kill Harry Potter.

~SH~

Albus Dumbledore walked wearily along a corridor on the fourth floor of St Mungo's Hospital. When he turned the corner, he saw Molly Weasley sitting at the opposite end. She rose to greet him as he approached.

"Oh Albus, thank you for coming."

"Is there any change in his condition?"

She shook his head, "No, I'm afraid not." She dragged her hand wearily over her hair. "Has Filius had any luck?"

"He tracked their travels to some ruins in Belize and succeeded in contacting them this morning. Last I heard, they were in the process of obtaining emergency international Portkeys and should arrive this evening."

Dumbledore looked at the closed door. "And how is Harry?"

"That's why I called you; you've got to do something. He won't listen to me, or Arthur. He absolutely refuses to leave." Her voice began to quaver as her eyes filled with tears. "He's devastated. He won't eat or sleep. He's just sitting there."

She sniffed and drew a shaky breath. "Would you please try to talk some sense into him? I think he'll listen to you."

"Of course, Molly," He touched her shoulder and then headed toward the door.

"How is Severus?" she asked.

He paused and turned back to face her. "I was with him this afternoon when he regained consciousness. Poppy says he'll be fine."

"Thank Merlin for that."

Dumbledore opened the door and entered the dimly lit hospital room.

Harry was sitting in a chair beside the bed and had apparently fallen asleep while holding Anthony's hand. He was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes.

When Voldemort attacked Harry the night of Samhain, his intent had been to use Legilimency to tear apart Harry's mind and thus kill him, but Harry had automatically thrown up his shield and inadvertently deflected part of the attacking force onto Anthony.

Anthony sustained numerous cerebral injuries that had left him in a coma. The Healers believed that if he lived, he might never regain consciousness but if he did, he would be in a vegetative state.

Dumbledore conjured a chair next to Harry's, sat down beside him and took a hold of his free hand. "Harry."

The teen woke with a sluggish start, not realizing he had dozed off.

"Professor Flitwick has located Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein," Dumbledore said softly. "They will be here shortly."

Harry was so tired; he didn't think he could speak, so he just nodded his head in acknowledgement.

Dumbledore continued, "When they arrive, I want you to go to the Burrow for the remainder of the week. You need to rest. I will arrange for Helena to come and see you."

Harry looked at Anthony lying motionless and his eyes welled with tears. "Why did this have to happen?" his voice shook and he started to cry. "Why does he always hurt the ones I love?"

Harry pulled his hand away from Dumbledore's to cover his face as he broke into sobs, but he wouldn't let go of Anthony's hand.

Albus wanted to offer solace, but words could never justify what Voldemort had done to these two young men, or to any of the innocent people that had lost their lives over the years in the evil wizard's quest for supremacy. So instead of counsel, Dumbledore scooted his chair a little closer and wrapped his arm around Harry.

~SH~

Severus lay upon one of the infirmary beds, propped up by numerous pillows. He felt dazed, had a terrible headache and one of his legs was numb. He had sustained all his injuries as a result of being a little too close to Harry when his magical surge burst across the rose garden.

He quietly sipped a cup of tea while trying to process the little bit of information Albus had told him regarding the events of that night.

Of the three persons injured that night, the injuries of the intended victim had been the least severe.

Harry was literally exhausted from fighting off Voldemort's attack, and he had a broken ankle that he sustained when he had fallen to the ground. Aside from that he was fine, at least physically, but the injuries to his boyfriend had left Harry an emotional wreck.

He, Severus, had sustained a concussion from the hard landing. The nerve damage to his leg occurred when some of Harry's magical surge passed through him, short circuiting a couple of nerves. Poppy assured him that they would regenerate.

Then Severus touched his hair. He hadn't looked in a mirror yet but he could certainly feel how thick it had become, for apparently another effect from the surge passing through him was that his hair had doubled in length and was now about twice as thick as it had been.

"How are you feeling?" Poppy asked as she stepped around the privacy screen.

Her abrupt arrival startled him from his thoughts. "Would you please announce your approach? I almost dropped this," he barked as he handed her the now empty cup.

"Ah, I can see you're feeling more like old self," she teased and then started another round of healing charms on his injured nerves.

"Very funny," he snipped.

When the Mediwitch finished her administrations she turned and looked at him with a curious expression.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"You seem different somehow."

"It's the hair."

"No. It's more than that, you've changed."

"Nonsense," he huffed as he rolled onto his good side. "Now would you please Nox the lights so I can get some rest?"

Happy and relieved at his improvement, she smiled and did as he asked. "Good night, Severus."

He listened to her footsteps fade as she walked down the ward and entered her office. Lying in the now darkened room, he thought about how it had felt when he was unconscious in his own dark place, and as much as he hated to admit it, he missed that feeling of love wrapped around him.

"But it's gone now," Severus whispered and decided that, even though the love had left, he still had the memory of it and perhaps that would be enough.

~SH~

"I'll probably be late again tonight," Arthur said apologetically.

"Oh Arthur, that will make every night this week."

"There's nothing I can do about it, Molly. With this new proposed directive, the Muggle Relations Department is swamped."

"I know dear; I think it's a good idea, but you need help. Is the plan yet finalized?"

"It's still in the preliminary stages. Besides, we still have to find twenty individuals to become the new liaisons; that's no small feat."

"Has Kingsley been able to help? With all his experience ..."

"Molly, he's already taken on France in addition to Britain. Fortunately..."

Just then the clock chimed Late For Work.

"Oh no, I'm late!" He gave her a quick kiss, raced to the Floo and called back, "Don't let Harry talk you into letting him go back to St. Mungos. You know what the Healers said last night."

"I don't think he'll be able to manage much of anything today," she sighed. "Bye Arthur."

After he Floo'd to work, Molly went to check on Harry; he was in the same room he had stayed in the previous summer.

She peered around the doorway. He was sound asleep, but the covers had slipped of his shoulders.

She tiptoed over to him, pulled the covers up and tucked them around his shoulders, then stood a moment and watched him sleep.

Dumbledore and Molly had arrived the night before with Harry in tow. The Healers had given Harry a quick once over and, determining that he was on the verge of a physical collapse, had prescribed Dreamless Sleep potion and rest for the next few days. The threat of admitting him as a patient was enough to make him agree to all they had prescribed, and Molly was determined to carry out their orders.

She gave him a kiss on his forehead then went back to the kitchen to prepare some hearty dishes for when he awoke.

~SH~

The wonderful aromas that wafted into his room roused Harry from his sleep. He'd slept nearly twenty four hours and woke up groggy and disorientated. He recognized the aromas as Mrs. Weasley's cooking and mistakenly thought that it was summertime again, and how nice it would be to eat whatever it was she had cooked. He yawned and started to stretch but stopped because of a painful twinge in his ankle.

_What did I do to my ankle?_ He wondered and tried to recall if he'd fallen off his broom, but then it hit him. He remembered what had happened and an overwhelming ache engulfed his heart and took his breath away.

As he lay there in the twilight with the soft background noise coming from the kitchen, Harry thought of Anthony and of how much he loved him. He thought about how cute Anthony was - clever and smart, yet sensitive, funny and self assured. He thought of Anthony's body and how much he loved to kiss and touch him.

Anthony had taught Harry so much about these things.

He'd meant to ask Anthony where he'd learned all of this. Now, he never could. His eyes welled with tears and he turned to sink his face in the pillow and cried.

~SH~

Severus had just poured himself a Scotch, neat, and was attempting to limp back to the couch when Dumbledore's voice called out from the Floo.

"Severus, are you awake?"

The hearth came into view as he passed the couch and he held his drink out for the old man to see. "Yes, I'm awake. Come through."

He set down his drink, lowered himself on the sofa and then used both hands to lift his bad leg up on the cushions.

"Mind if I join you?" asked Albus as he now stood by the sideboard with the Scotch bottle in his hand.

"Help yourself."

Poppy had discharged Severus from the infirmary only that morning with strict orders that he rest and recuperate for the remainder of the week. He was more than willing to comply, as the numbness in his leg had now graduated to a severe ache.

Albus sat down heavily in the wingback chair and the two men took a moment to consider each other. This was the first opportunity they'd had for conversation since the ordeal of Samhain, five days previous.

"How is Harry?" asked Severus.

"He's at the Burrow, resting. Apparently he slept all of today and Healer Swanson will meet with him tomorrow."

"And Mr. Goldstein?"

Albus breathed in the vapors from the alcohol and then took a sip. "They moved him to the long term care ward on the fifth floor today. His parents are considering transferring him to a facility in Brussels."

"That will be difficult for Harry," Severus commented with concern in his voice.

"Mr. Goldstein's prognosis is not promising, and the facility in Brussels apparently specializes in cases involving the brain. Perhaps it is for the best," he said resignedly. "If he remained at St. Mungos, Harry would waste away, worrying and fretting to no end, trying to keep a vigil ..." He let the sentence hang unfinished.

They sat quietly for a few moments, lost in thought.

"Severus?"

"Hmm?"

"I know you experienced what transpired between Harry and Tom."

Severus stared at his drink and nodded in response; the movement caused blue reflections of light to bounce off his now thick black hair.

"Can you tell me about the last memories you saw?"

His request hit a little too close to what had become a soft spot for Severus. "Why do you want to know?"

"Please Severus, I need to understand what transpired that night and if there is any correlation between the attack on Harry and the abrupt cease fire of the embassy attacks."

Severus's curiosity was now peaked. "Please explain."

Albus set down his drink and then steeped his fingers as he recalled what he'd seen that night. "Just before Harry's magic surged, the green light - that force that was bombarding him, it seemed to weaken."

"It did?"

"Yes, it did. It was as if Voldemort withdrew his attack a fraction of a second before the surge."

Severus fingered the lip of his glass as he pondered a possibility. "Then perhaps that wasn't a surge at all. Perhaps that was merely Harry's shield, and when the Dark Lord abruptly ceased his onslaught, the force of it shot throughout the immediate vicinity."

Dumbledore entertained this possibility.

"You haven't discussed this with Harry?" continued Severus.

Dumbledore sighed. "He's been in no condition to discuss anything. In fact, the poor boy was so distraught that the Healers at St. Mungos almost admitted him as a patient."

Severus found this news quite distressing and he was annoyed at himself for feeling this way.

"But I still need an answer to my question," Albus pressed.

Severus crossed his arms over his chest, something he tended to do when he felt vulnerable, and began to relay all the images he had seen that night. He clarified to Dumbledore that Harry had indeed fought back and had miraculously employed his own stab at Legilimency.

"Albus," Severus continued, "Harry not only fought back - he successfully dictated what he showed the Dark Lord. The last images I recall were his memories of being held by Molly Weasley, by you and by ... well, Mr. Goldstein."

"It was love," Dumbledore said in a surprised tone.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Severus, last year when Voldemort possessed Harry, he withdrew as soon as the boy's thoughts reflected upon his love for Sirius. In that case, his thoughts had been purely responsive, but this time, it would appear that Harry took this knowledge and drew upon his memories of love intentionally, and used them as a weapon."

"Dear Merlin."

"Dear Merlin, indeed," Albus agreed. "I would imagine this came as a rather nasty shock to Tom, and it could explain why he retreated; it might even be the reason for the abrupt halt in the attacks upon the Embassies."

They stared at each other in disbelief.

_"He will have power the Dark Lord knows not..."**_ Albus whispered the words from the prophecy. "Well he certainly knows about it now."

~SH~

Author notes:

** Order of the Phoenix, by J K Rowling, page 841, American edition

Skulkin Bar: I needed a bar in the Knockturn Alley area, but there isn't one in canon, so I got the name Skulkin from Chamber of Secrets, Ch. 4 where Hagrid counsels Harry:

"Skulkin around Knockturn Alley, I dunno—dodgy place, Harry— don' want no one ter see yeh down there―"


	13. Turning Point

Harry turns to Severus for guidance and a deeper understanding brings them closer together. All rights belong to JKR. Enjoy, SHaria

**13. Turning Point**

_A bend in the road is not the end of the road … unless you fail to make the turn_

Eight days following Samhain, Anthony's condition had not changed and based upon the advice of the Healers, Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein decided to move him to the institute in Brussels.

Harry had stayed at the Burrow for four days to rest and recuperate from his ordeal. Helena had come and worked with him in an attempt to help him process his grief and hopefully avoid a re-occurrence of his depression. Even though this was an emotional time for the teen, she had encouraged him to return to Hogwarts and resume his normal routine as soon as possible.

He agreed but insisted on seeing Anthony one last time, and so on Sunday morning, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley escorted the teen back to St. Mungo's and waited in the hallway while Harry said his good-byes.

"Do you think we should go in and check on him?" asked Arthur.

"No dear, let him have a few more minutes," said Molly.

"I hope this doesn't set him back," Arthur said quietly.

"Helena said that Harry needed to do this for closure."

The door behind them opened slowly and Harry emerged from the room. He had pulled himself together but it was apparent that he'd been crying.

Molly wrapped him in a motherly hug and was about to offer consoling words but stopped at the sudden arrival of several people from around the corner. Dumbledore, Jackson, Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein and a number of Healers all approached at a quickened pace.

"Albus, what's the matter?" Arthur said in surprise as he watched the Healers proceed on into the room.

"My apologies," returned Dumbledore, "but there has been an unexpected development."

Mr. Goldstein touched Dumbledore's shoulder. "Excuse me for interrupting Albus, but I just wanted to thank you for all of your help.

"Good luck to you and to your son."

"Thank you, Albus." He turned to go to his son as Mrs. Goldstein gave Harry a quick hug and whispered in his ear.

"You be sure to take care of yourself; it's what Anthony would want."

"I'll try," Harry's voice shook as he tried to keep his tears in check.

She let go and went in to join her husband and son as Dumbledore began to explain to the Weasleys that Harry needed to return to the castle immediately.

"But why, Albus?" asked Molly. "What's happened?"

Dumbledore turned to Channon and handed him one of the Portkeys, "Will you please take Harry to my office and wait there with him. I'll accompany Molly and Arthur back to the Burrow and explain the situation. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Of course." Channon took the Portkey and stepped over to the distraught teen.

"Touch the Portkey," he ordered.

Harry had no idea what was going on, all he did know was that Anthony's mind had been whisked into oblivion and now all that was left of him was being taken away to another country. Ever since his experience during the third task, Harry didn't trust Portkeys. Looking down at this one, part of him hoped that maybe this Portkey might take _him_ into oblivion.

He touched the Portkey and felt the familiar tug.

~SH~

Dumbledore stepped from his Floo a few minutes later and saw both Harry and Channon standing next to one of the tall windows.

"Channon," Albus interrupted softly. "Would you mind? I need to discuss a private matter with Harry."

The professor nodded then turned back to the teen. "If you ever need someone to talk to, you can always come to me."

Harry was visibly upset and the worried professor gave him a quick, one armed hug before he turned and headed for the door.

After Channon had left, Dumbledore addressed Harry. "There's an important matter we need to discuss."

Harry did not respond but instead stood and stared out the window. He felt completely drained and though he knew that Dumbledore talking to him, he couldn't find the strength to listen.

He didn't know how long this went on, but next thing he knew, Dumbledore was guiding him across the office and into the antechamber. A bed appeared before him and Dumbledore was telling him to sit down, and so he did.

"Drink this," said Dumbledore as he held out a vial.

Harry felt as though he'd hit a wall and just couldn't think or do anything. The Portkey hadn't sent him into oblivion as he had hoped, but perhaps whatever was in the little bottle might, so he took it and drank the entire contents one swallow

~SH~

The next thing Harry knew, he was lying on the most comfortable bed imaginable. The sheets were soft and warm and he felt like he was floating on a warm fluffy cloud. He heard the soft patter of rain upon a window and was content to just lie there and listen to the rain.

Sometime later, a movement near him spurred him to open his eyes. "Dobby?" he croaked.

The little house elf was sitting next to him on the bed. "Harry Potter is awake!" Dobby announced triumphantly as he handed Harry his glasses and then added, "The Headmaster is wanting Dobby to tell him when Harry Potter is awake, and so Dobby is going."

"No, wait." But the little elf had already disappeared.

Harry slipped on his glasses, dragged himself to a sitting position and looked around the room. He recognized it as the antechamber off of Dumbledore's office but he couldn't remember how he got here.

Dumbledore strode into the room and quickly raised a hand when Harry tried to get out of the bed. "Just stay where you are, my boy."

Harry looked to the windows and realized that it was twilight.

Dobby reappeared on the bed; he was holding a cup of tea and a plate of sandwiches, which he offered to Harry.

"Just the tea, thanks."

Dobby placed the plate of sandwiches on a side table then glanced over to the Headmaster; he was busy levitating a big squishy chair next to the bed so the elf seized the opportunity to offer his advice. "Dobby is thinking that Harry Potter should eat," he whispered insistently.

"I will later, I promise."

Satisfied, Dobby nodded and was gone in an instant.

Dumbledore took a seat and waited silently as Harry drank his tea and woke up a bit more.

"Sir, what am I doing here?"

The old wizard regarded Harry for a few moments before he answered, "You were in a bad way my boy, and in no shape to go to Gryffindor Tower." He then added softly, "And I know how much you dislike the infirmary."

Harry looked down to his tea, "Thank you, Sir."

"There is however an important matter that we need to discuss."

"Is it why everyone had to leave so quickly this morning?"

"Yes. You see, my boy, Professor Snape was summoned by Voldemort last night."

"Is he all right?" Harry asked in a sudden panic. He already felt guilty over the fact that Snape had been injured from the surge, and he still couldn't believe that the professor had risked his life in an attempt to save his.

"Relatively speaking, yes. He's still dealing with the injury he received last weekend, but you'll see him tomorrow and can ask him yourself." Dumbledore dreaded adding to Harry's burdens, but he had no choice. "Our matter of concern is the information Professor Snape acquired last night."

"Information?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Yes."

"You mean, about the Embassy attacks?"

"Not directly, although Voldemort's attacks upon the Embassies did cease because of you.

"Me?"

Specifically, because of your counter attack upon him."

"What d'you mean?"

"You must understand Harry, that Professor Snape witnessed the exchange between you and Voldemort."

Harry froze. "He did?"

"Yes."

"He saw … everything?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Did he tell you what he saw?" Harry blushed.

"To a certain extent." Dumbledore leaned forward. "Harry, Professor Snape respects your privacy, as do I. What he saw will remain private, I assure you."

Harry looked away, trying to avoid the Headmaster's gaze.

"You have no cause for embarrassment," Dumbledore continued. "On the contrary, I admire your courage and strategy. Not only did you succeed in countering Tom's attack, your attack upon him led to the abrupt cease-fire upon the Embassies."

Harry stared at nothing as he sipped his tea and tried to take in this overwhelming news.

"But we need to return to my original topic — that being Voldemort's change in priorities. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but we believe he wants to kill you."

"Sir, I already know that," Harry said matter of fact. "He's been trying to kill me all my life."

"Ah yes, allow me to clarify." Dumbledore adjusted a pleat in the fold of his lavender taffeta robe, "From what Professor Snape heard at last night's meeting, your death is now Voldemort's top priority."

"Um … so, that's why I had to come back to the castle right away?"

"Yes, and that is also why the Goldstein's had to expedite their departure."

Harry's heart may have missed a beat. "The Goldsteins? How does he know about Anthony?"

"He saw Mr. Goldstein in your mind, during your counter attack."

Dumbledore quickly levitated Harry's cup of tea before he dropped it.

"Oh God, what have I done?" Harry covered his face with his hands.

"Listen to me," said Dumbledore. "Mr. Goldstein has been registered under an alias; he is hundreds of miles away and he will wear a glamour. Everything has been taken care of."

Harry lowered his hands. "You're sure?"

"I am certain as to his safety. But now, we must return to the primary topic."

"That wasn't it?" Harry asked incredulously. "There's more?"

"Yes, I'm afraid there is."

Harry lay back against the pillows; he didn't know how much more of this he could take."

"Because of this new development, you will have to remain at Hogwarts."

The teen pulled the covers a little closer to him.

"This means no Hogsmead weekends and most likely, your Christmas break will have to be spent here at the castle."

Harry lay silent for a minute, taking in this news. "That's okay, nothing matters anymore."

"What do you mean?"

He held onto the covers and spoke with a small voice. "It's just that, I don't really care anymore."

Albus found Harry's sudden apathy distressing. "It will be possible for you to continue with Quidditch," his voice held a hopeful tone. "I have placed a protective charm upon you; with it, you cannot pass through the wards if it is not of your choosing."

Harry stared blankly and just nodded.

"Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have been waiting to see you," Dumbledore intentionally used a soft voice. "Are you up for receiving visitors?"

"Sure." Harry felt numb. All he could think about was how Voldemort was taking away everything that mattered in his life, bit by bit.

~SH~

Potions class, the next morning, was the usual affair except for the fact that Snape was limping and using a cane.

The students had straggled into the early morning class, collected what they needed from the store cupboard, and were now attempting to brew the antidote to Veritiserum.

All through the double class, Severus kept an eye on Harry. The teen was obviously preoccupied and unfocused, which resulted in the fact that Miss Granger had to brew their entire potion nearly single-handedly.

In addition to Severus keeping an eye on Harry, Harry was in turn keeping an eye on his Professor, watching him struggle with his uncooperative leg.

Numerous times throughout the class they had inadvertently caught each other out, as they had looked at each other at the same time.

At the end of class, the students placed their samples on Snape's desk, from where he called out their assignment.

"For Friday, you are to read chapter six and be well versed on the properties of antimony and its affect upon a Strengthening Solution. You will be tested on this. You are dismissed."

The students moaned at the assignment, packed their schoolbags and then shuffled out of the potions lab.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking down the corridor when Harry stopped. "Listen, you guys go on ahead; I'll catch up with you at lunch."

"Why, where are you going?" asked Ron.

"I want to talk to Snape for a minute, in private."

Hermione looked at Harry and knew it would be pointless to try to change his mind. Ever since she'd spoken with him the night before, she could tell that he had changed. He seemed to have an attitude of seriousness about him now.

~SH~

Severus hobbled over to the sideboard in his study and uncorked a vial of anti-pain draught. He measured out a healthy dose and took it in one swallow, then cringed at the bitter aftertaste.

Before he could replace the cork, something inside of him told him that Harry was nearby.

"What is it, Harry?" Severus asked even before he turned around. When he did, he saw the teen standing in the doorway.

"Sir, I want to apologize for injuring you."

"You don't need to apologize. It was an accident."

"I also want to thank you, for risking your life to try to help me."

They stared at each other in silence. A desperate situation had led them to share something terribly private. But they were still teacher and student, and there existed the faint old sense of distance. It all just felt awkward.

Severus' lunch appeared suddenly on the low table in between the two chairs.

They both looked over to it.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to interrupt." He turned to leave.

"No Harry, wait," Severus called out but then hesitated.

The teen waited expectantly, "Yes Sir?"

Part of Severus wanted to reach out to Harry, but to do so felt foreign and unfamiliar. "Would you care to join me?" he asked tentatively.

Surprisingly, the thought of sitting down and having a quiet lunch with Snape came as a relief. "Yes Sir, I would. Thank you."

A second plate of food was ordered and the two men ate their meal, or at least Severus did. Harry didn't have much of an appetite and only managed a few bites. He finally gave up and settled for his cup of tea.

While they ate, they discussed a number of 'safe' topics: the new initiative set forth by the Ministry, the injury to Severus' leg and what actually was involved with nerve regeneration and so on.

Severus didn't miss the fact that Harry had barely touched his food.

"Do you not like Dover sole?"

"It's not that Sir," Harry said through a sigh. "I guess I'm just not very hungry."

"That's understandable."

Harry lowered his head and became noticeably tense.

"I apologize. That was ..."

"No Sir." Harry set down his tea and grabbed the chair handles. "You don't need to apologize. I …"

"Harry," Snape interrupted.

The teen startled and noted Snape's tense expression; he also then realized that he, Harry, was practically perched on the edge of his chair. He drew a deep breath and made himself sit back in the chair and relax.

Severus waited until Harry had visibly calmed. He knew that agitation could cause Harry to surge, and he was only just recovering from last weekend's surge. "Are you all right now?"

"Yes Sir."

"Then please continue."

Harry stared at his Professor. For weeks he'd wanted to finish the discussion that Snape had ended so abruptly, that day he'd first told him about his shield. But now, with all that had happened and was happening to him, his curiosity had turned into a desperate need.

"Sir, do you remember about a month ago, when I first told you of my shield?"

"Of course I do."

"You said something to me that day in Italian."

Severus stiffened slightly; he hadn't expected this. "Yes, I recall."

"You told me the words meant _I have experienced that on my own skin_."

"Yes?" he responded cautiously.

"Sir, could you tell me please, how you … What do you do …" He swallowed and tried again. "Sir, how do you deal with ... everything?"

Severus saw tears well in Harry's eyes.

"Harry," Severus shook his head gently. "Don't look to me as an example. You should go to the Headmaster."

Harry shook his head. Even though he couldn't say it, and even though Severus couldn't say it, the two of them had shared something, and whatever that something was, it had formed a sort of bond between them.

"I don't think I can go on," Harry confessed. "Too much has happened." The tears spilled over his lashes and began to slide quietly down his cheeks. "I know I have a job to do, but …"

Severus struggled to stand up and then moved over to sit on the coffee table right in front of Harry. "You mustn't speak like that," he implored.

"I don't know how to deal with all of this."

Severus stared at this young man crumbling before him. When he had been injured, Harry had somehow sent a part of himself to come and watch over him, Severus, in his time of need. Now it was his turn to do the same for Harry.

"You want to know how I persevere." Severus' jaw was hard set. Even though he wanted to help Harry, to do so made him uneasy. "You want to know how I survived then, and how I continue to survive."

Harry looked into those ebony eyes and nodded.

"You're counselor might not agree with my methods."

"I'm not asking her."

"Very well." Severus drew a deep breath and let it out in a huff, "Work. I lose myself in work."

That wasn't quite the revelation Harry had expected. "Work?"

"You asked me, and so I am telling you. When things get to be too much, I brew."

They were sitting inches away from each other, face to face but they were both so caught up in the conversation that this fact hadn't even registered with them.

"And that makes everything okay?"

"No. Everything, as you call it, remains unchanged, but brewing is an escape. It is how I step away from the complexities of life."

~SH~

Harry caught up with Ron and Hermione after lunch and now all three were making their way toward Transfiguration.

As they walked along, Snape's words regarding losing one's self in one's work echoed in his mind and evoked a faint ray of hope.

_I have work to do too_, he thought to himself. _There's my classes, and I have all kinds of spells and hexes to learn._

They walked into the classroom and took their seats.

_I have to stay in the castle anyway, so maybe if I just keep myself really busy with work, then maybe I won't feel all the hurt._

His classmates began to pull out their parchment and quills, but Harry sat unmoving with his thoughts fixed upon Snape and how despite all that he had to endure, the man was so strong in character and formidable.

Professor McGonagall began to speak and her voice snapped Harry from his thoughts. Now, with a desperate determination, he grabbed his quill and parchment and devoted his undivided attention to her lecture.

~SH~

*Quotation by Anonymous


	14. Winter's Chill

**14. Wint****er's Chill**

Harry pressed himself flat against an enormous Cypress tree right when a Blasting Curse exploded nearby; he cast a Shield charm but not before a small stone clipped him on the back of his head.

He had successfully executed the curses and hexes that had been assigned for this end of term maneuver, all that remained now was to make his way safely back to the starting point.

He dropped his Shield Charm and quietly cast a Geminio spell. All of a sudden, a dozen Harrys appeared and began to run in different directions.

While all of the imposter Harrys were hit with assorted jinxes and hexes, the real Harry cast a Disillusionment Charm upon himself and ran pell-mell toward a rocky outcropping.

He reached the designated 'safety zone', leaned against one of the smooth boulders and slid exhausted to the ground. "Finite".

Dumbledore had watched the test from this vantage spot and startled at Harry's sudden appearance. "Oh, there you are. Well done, my boy, well done."

Channon ran over, "That was a brilliant idea, using the Gemino Curse!"

Harry was still trying to catch his breath but he managed a small "Thanks" to both professors.

While the majority of students had been in Hogsmeade, relaxing and doing some Christmas shopping, Harry had spent over an hour in a secluded grove just north of the castle, executing a Defense Against the Dark Arts test designed specifically for him. He'd had to make his way across the grove using an arsenal of assigned spells, hexes and curses all whilst he battled off both Professors Jackson and Snape.

The teen was listening to Dumbledore and Jackson as they discussed some of the highlights from the exercise when he saw Snape approach.

The two dark haired wizards silently regarded each other for a few moments before Severus finally gave his nod of approval.

Harry didn't understand why, but Snape's approval had become very important to him. He breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his head against the cold stone.

"You're injured," Severus said when he noted the blood running down the back of the teen's neck.

Dumbledore and Jackson ceased their conversation to look at Harry who in turn began to examine his hands and legs.

During the exercise, it had been necessary for him to dive behind countless trees and rocks for cover and had been sprayed numerous times with shards of wood and bits of stone; he'd received so many little cuts and bruises that he wasn't sure to which one Snape was referring.

The tall wizard knelt down next to Harry. "Let me take a look," he said and carefully parted the hair to inspect the wound. "Perhaps you should have Madame Pomfrey heal this."

"Oh no Sir, couldn't you do it?" asked Harry. "It's just a cut, right?"

Dumbledore nodded his consent and so Severus healed the wound and then helped the teen get to his feet.

"Harry, why don't you get cleaned up and then come to my office," suggested Dumbledore. "Now that you've mastered these spells, Professor Jackson and I wish to discuss with you the next level of your training. Shall we meet in say … two hours?"

"Come on Harry," Channon called over, "I'll walk you back to the castle."

"Severus would you stay a moment?" asked Dumbledore. "There's a matter we need to discuss."

"Of course Headmaster."

Severus moved toward Dumbledore as Channon and Harry started back toward the castle. After he'd taken a few steps, Harry chanced a glance back and caught Severus watching him.

~SH~

With the majority of the students still in Hogsmeade, Harry walked through the near deserted common-room and headed straight up the stairs for the showers.

He washed away the grime and tended to his wounds then stood for a long time under the spray, hoping that the hot water would chase away the residual cold lingering in his bones.

He was exhausted and decided to try and catch a kip before he went up to the Headmaster's office. So, with only a towel wrapped around his waist, Harry shuffled down the hallway to his dorm room but stopped in his tracks when he saw a tie hanging on the doorknob.

"Fuck," he said in a huff and debated what to do. Normally he'd just go hang out in the common room, but he was standing there stark naked, except for the towel. The clothes he'd worn that afternoon were a mess and Goddammit — he was tired and needed a nap.

He knocked soundly on the door. "Listen, whoever is in there, I'm coming in."

"Hold up!" Ron called out. "Don't you see the tie?"

"Yeah, I see it but I'm freezing out here."

Harry heard muffled voices. "Ron, I'm serious. I'm opening this door in three seconds. One, two…"

It sounded like someone fell on the floor, then after only a couple of seconds — the door opened and there stood Ron; his hair was disheveled, there was a hickey on his neck and his pants were unzipped.

"Harry! What's the idea?"

"What do you mean — what's the idea? This is my room too."

A noise caused him to look over just in time to see Hermione, still kneeling on Ron's bed, frantically button up her blouse.

"Oh for God's sake," he said under his breath.

"Wait up Harry," pleaded Ron. "We've been meaning to tell you …"

Harry marched in to the room — towel and all. "You two don't think I already know? I've known about you for weeks."

"Oh Harry," Hermione's voice at first sounded sympathetic, but it quickly turned to a squeal. "Oh Harry!"

He had walked to the other side of his bed and turned away from her, then dropped his towel and pulled on a pair of sweats. "Sorry Mione, but I'm freezing!" Then he pulled on last year's Christmas jumper from Mrs. Weasley.

"What in Merlin's name happened to you? You're covered with bruises and cuts."

"Oh." He thought she'd squealed because of his nakedness. "It's nothing," he responded as he pulled back the covers and crawled into his bed. "They're from my exam this afternoon."

"Oh yeah, how did it go?" asked Ron.

"Fine," Harry said in a huff as he placed his spectacles on the night-table.

"No, come on tell us … how did it go?"

Without his glasses, Ron and Hermione were a blur to Harry, but he stared pointedly at them anyway. "It went fine. I got through all the spells and made it to the safety spot. But now I just need to warm up and close my eyes for a bit before I go meet with the Headmaster."

"You're meeting with Dumbledore? Why? What's going on?" asked Ron.

"Just give me a break!" Harry yelled.

"Come on Ron," said Hermione as she gently pulled at his arm, "He's tired. We'll talk with him later."

Ron's hurt was evident in his expression as he and Hermione sulked out of the room and closed the door behind them.

Harry watched his two friends leave and then continued to stare at the door after it had closed. He didn't know why, but these days he felt like an outsider — like he just didn't fit in anymore.

~SH~

Snow swirled though the air as the students climbed into the waiting carriages.

"Have a Happy Christmas," Hermione wished Harry as she gave him a hug. "I wish you could go to the Burrow."

"It's okay, Hermione. It's not like this is the first time I've had to stay here for Christmas."

She started to pull away, but Harry held onto her and whispered in her ear. "Listen, I'm sorry I've been an ass lately."

"You don't need to apologize. You have every right to be angry."

They held each other as Ron placed a hand on Harry's back. "Hey mate, I could stay here with you and…"

"No Ron, you go be with your family. I'll be okay. Professor Jackson is gonna stay and we're gonna work on some new stuff."

"All right," Hagrid's booming voice cut through the air, "Yer be a need'n tuh get er move on. In'tuh the carriages with ya now."

"Well, have a Happy Christmas," Harry called out as Ron and Hermione climbed into the carriage, and then stood back and watched as it rolled away toward the front gates.

~SH~

The weather turned bitterly cold the week before Christmas. Channon had worked with Harry every day, from sun-up to well into the night, on the teen's new assignment: wandless spells.

It was now the day before Christmas and the two men were just walking back toward the castle after their morning run.

"So you're leaving this afternoon?"

"Yeah," Channon answered and then placed a gentle hand on Harry's back, "Harry, I have some news to tell you."

"What?"

"I'm engaged."

Harry stopped in his tracks, "You're engaged?"

"Yes."

"You're getting married?"

"That's generally what it means …yes" he said and smiled.

"Then what in God's name are you doing here? Why aren't you with her? Her … right?"

"Yes, she's a her." Channon gave Harry a push and they resumed their walk toward the castle. "To answer your first question, I'm here because I believe strongly in this assignment."

Harry answered sheepishly, "You mean training me?"

"Yes. Training you is important and necessary to all our survivals. I have Mariah's complete support in this."

"Mariah. That's her name?"

"Yes."

"And that's where you're going for Christmas?"

Channon bumped his shoulder against Harry's. "Yeah. I'm sorry if…"

"Oh no, Channon. Really, I'm happy for you," he said while at the same time, hearing this news made him feel empty and sad.

~SH~

Harry awoke on Christmas morning to an empty dorm room.

He sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. As usual, there was a small pile of presents at the foot of the bed but when he put on his glasses, he realized that it really wasn't a pile, but only one present and two letters.

Disappointed, he bit his lips and unwrapped the present: a book on rare defensive spells from Channon. Then Harry reached for the smallest letter. It turned out to be a card from Remus, wishing Harry a Happy Christmas and saying that he wished he could come and visit but that he was busy on an assignment for the order.

He tossed it off to the side then picked up the larger envelope; there was a slight bulge in the middle. He opened the envelope and out fell an amulet strung upon a silver chain.

Harry had never seen anything like it and he picked up the amulet to study it more closely. Then he unfolded the parchment and read the note.

_Harry,_

_This is a powerful amulet, charmed with the ability to protect it's wearer. _

_Wear it in good health, _

_S. S. _

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. He traced his fingers over the initials and then slipped the necklace over his head and for some reason, he suddenly didn't feel quite so alone.

He got dressed and headed down the stairs, with the intent of going to the special Christmas breakfast being served in the Great Hall for the few individuals whom had stayed over, but when Harry reached the common room, the sight that greeted stopped him in his tracks.

There, standing before a huge decorated Christmas tree laden with presents beneath its boughs was the entire Weasley family and Hagrid.

"Happy Christmas, Harry!" they all called out to him.

Everyone hugged him and when it was Molly's turn, she wrapped the stunned teen in her arms. "You didn't think we would let you be alone on Christmas, did you?"

Arthur placed one arm behind Harry's back and one behind Molly's "We told you last summer son, you are a part of this family."

Harry had vowed, that last time he'd seen Anthony, that he would never cry again but his determination quickly failed him. He tucked his face at the base of Mrs. Weasley's neck and spoke in a shaky voice, "Thank you for caring about me."

"Oh dear," she patted his back. "How many time do we have to tell you? We don't just care about you …we love you."

~SH~

"Bye Mom," Neville leaned forward and gave his mother a peck on her cheek then stood and stared down at the expressionless face and sighed. "Gran, I'm gonna say good-bye to Dad; then I'll meet you at the nurse's desk.

"Very well," the stern old witch answered. She and Neville had come to St. Mungo's this Christmas day to pay a visit to his mother and father.

Alice wore the scarlet colored scarf her mother in law had brought as a Christmas present. Augusta knew the staff wouldn't let her keep the scarf, but had brought it anyway, thinking it might add a cheery touch.

Their visit completed, Augusta and her grandson left the hospital and had to wait only a moment or two out in the bitter cold for the Knight Bus to arrive.

Mrs. Longbottom took the front seat while Neville went to sit at the rear. These visits always left him feeling empty and depressed. He stared out the window and wished that just once in his life, he could experience a truly happy Christmas.

They arrived at her home, a large Victorian mansion, and began to walk up the front path.

"Come along, Neville. Don't dawdle"

"Yes, Gran."

"I caught a chill being out in that cold," she said as she stepped through the front door. "Be a good boy and go and see if the elves have tea ready for us.

"Yes, Gran."

Neville had barely taken one step when his Grandmother called out, "What are you doing here? How dare you step foot in my home!"

Neville tried to draw his wand but Mulciber grabbed a hold of him before he could succeed.

"Shut it, you old bitch," Bellatrix shouted back then quickly cast a Langlock jinx and Petrificus Totalus upon the matronly witch.

Dolohov swiftly levitated Augusta before she fell over and then positioned her on one of the couches.

"Gran!" Neville yelled.

"Be quiet, you idiot boy," snarled Bellatrix. "We aren't going to hurt the old bat."

Neville struggled to free himself but was quickly bound by thin cords that had shot out from Bellatrix's wand. "Let me go! Let me go!"

"Bella, get on with it!" yelled Mulciber, "I've had it with this kid!"

Lestrange stepped close to Neville. Then with a gleam in her eye, she raised and pointed her wand. "Imperio," she crooned softly.

Neville stopped his struggles and the expression on his face relaxed as he fell into the blissful daze of the curse.

She stepped even closer and ran the tip of her wand along his cheek and jaw. "We have a job for you to do my pudgy, little friend."

Neville stared blankly at his tormentor.

"You are going to deliver Harry Potter to us."

"I can't. He's safe inside Hogwarts."

"I realize that you imbecile. That is why you must convince him to step outside the wards. Once he's clear of the wards, we can take him."

"Harry is smart. He won't do it."

"Well you'd better find a way of getting him to leave of his own accord, because if you don't do it, we'll kill your Grandmother."

Neville was no match for the powerful curse. "Okay, I'll find some way to get Harry to leave Hogwarts."

~SH~


	15. A Chance At Friendship

**15. ****A Chance At Friendship**

_The sound of raised voices woke Severus from his nap. They scared him and he wanted his mother. _

_He climbed from his bed and ran out of his room where he was enveloped in a pale gray mist. _

"_Mummy!" He called and stretched out his arms, trying to find her. _

_The voices grew louder. Then a horrible, piercing scream sounded over an ominous thumping noise. _

Severus bolted upright from his bed and gasped.

"Lumos!"

He looked around the bedroom and tried to collect his thoughts, then he dragged a hand though his thick black hair and pushed it away from his sweaty face.

After a minute he slid out of his bed then staggered into his bathroom to splash cold water on his face. The droplets dripped from his nose and chin as Severus stared at his pale reflection in the mirror.

"Grrrr," he grumbled in frustration.

"What's wrong, dearie?" asked the mirror.

The sweet voice startled him, "How many times must I tell you?" he yelled. "Never talk to me!"

Severus stormed out of the bathroom, grabbed his black silk robe from the foot of his bed and slipped it over his naked body as he strode out to the living room.

He poured himself a snifter of brandy, waved his hand to start a fire then went over to sit before the hearth.

He took a large sip of the burning liquid then laid his forehead in his hand and sighed.

"Damn you, Harry."

For weeks now, the shadowy images of that fateful night had visited him in nightmares. He didn't know what had been the cause; perhaps it was the Occlumency lessons, or maybe it was Harry's presence that had stayed with him when he was injured but whatever it was, it had left an indelible mark upon him.

Severus took another sip then leaned his head against the back of the chair. He was frustrated with himself and with Harry for that matter. Part of him blamed all of this vulnerability on that blasted green eyed wizard. Severus was accustomed to being in control of himself but these growing feelings and resurfacing memories refused to be silenced.

~SH~

The raucous in the Gryffindor common had escalated to beyond deafening.

"Did you see the look on their faces?" asked Ginny

"It was bloody fantastic. They couldn't believe it was happening to them!" added Dean.

"I know!" continued Ron. "And when Harry caught the Snitch I thought their entire team would fall off their brooms!"

All of Gryffindor was in the common room celebrating their win in the semi-finals.

"Speaking of which — Hey Harry, come over here! Have some of this punch," suggested Seamus. "It's got a real kick to it … if you know what I mean."

Harry shook his head as he came down the steps and crossed the common room. "No thanks, I've had enough."

"What d'you mean 'had enough?' You haven't had any."

"I know, and I'm gonna to keep it that way," Harry retorted as he slipped out the porthole.

It was three o'clock Sunday afternoon and Harry had decided that there was still plenty of time to study for tomorrow morning's potions exam, so he was off to the library to do just that.

"Hey, Harry!"

He turned back to see Neville standing just outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Yeah?"

"You want to maybe go into Hogsmeade to celebrate?"

Harry wondered if he'd heard correctly. "Uh … Neville, we can't go to Hogsmeade whenever we want to; you know that."

"Oh, right. I don't what I was thinking."

Harry stepped back toward where Neville stood.

"Maybe you're just excited about the win," he offered.

"That must be it."

As Harry looked more closely, it seemed as though something about Neville was a bit off.

"Hey, are you all right?" Harry put a hand on Neville's shoulder whom in turn jumped immediately backward.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Neville glanced off to the side, trying to avoid looking directly into Harry's eyes. "I guess I'll go back to the party." He turned and ducked back into the porthole.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the portrait.

"Well," said the Fat Lady, "that was certainly odd behavior."

"Bloody right," agreed Harry.

~SH~

Harry avoided looking at his and Anthony's usual spot in the back corner as he veered to the right to join Hermione. He walked past the sixth shelving of books and saw the familiar mop of curly hair.

"Hi Mione," he whispered.

"What are you doing here? How come you aren't celebrating?"

"I'm the one who caught the Snitch, remember? That's celebration enough."

"Guess you have a point."

"Listen," Harry whispered and had a quick look around the immediate area. "Have you noticed anything weird about Neville?"

"You mean more than the usual?"

"Yeah."

"No. Why?"

Harry told her about what had just occurred.

Hermione rolled her quill back and forth in her fingertips. "Maybe," she strung out the word as she formulated her thought. "Perhaps he's anxious about the upcoming Easter break."

Harry cocked his head. "Why?"

"You know how his grandmother intimidates him. And visiting his folks always makes him depressed."

"Yeah, maybe that's it."

"I'll have a chat with him, but right now we need to study."

"I know. Let me see your notes on steam and component reactions."

"Sure." She handed the parchment to him. "You do know this effect occurs during the brewing process of Draught of Living Death."

"Why do you think I'm asking for it?" his voice inadvertently rose above a whisper and Madame Prince reprimanded them with a 'Shhhhh'.

~SH~

"I'm going to get Harry some Pepper Imps; he loves these things," stated Ron.

"Just hurry up," huffed Hermione impatiently.

They'd been in Hogsmeade all morning and it being midterm, Hermione was anxious about their upcoming tests.

"I want to get back and do some more studying."

"I tell you Mione, between you and Harry and all of your studying, you're both gonna drive me loony."

It was Saturday, two days before the beginning of the midterm tests. The next weekend the majority of the students would go home for the Easter break.

Neville listened to his two friends banter back and forth as he sucked on a Licorice Wand and strolled out of Honeydukes. He headed toward Zonkos Joke Shop and as he turned a corner, the large hand of Mulciber reached out, grabbed him and threw him to the cobblestones between two narrowly set buildings. Further back in the alley waited Dolohov and Bellatrix.

She pointed her wand and Accio'd Neville to where she stood.

"Where is Potter?'

Neville crouched upon the ground with fright. "I keep asking him, but he won't leave Hogwarts."

"We were wrong in choosing this one," said the bitter witch. "He is too stupid and too weak."

"Maybe so Bella," snapped Mulciber, "but he's all we've got. Go on … give it to him."

She walked over, knelt down next to Neville and drew a deep breath. She would have preferred to hit him with the Cruciatus, but she had to put on an act and play to the Imperius curse.

"Sit up little boy," she said in a soft voice.

Neville sat up and wiped away his tears.

"Look at this." She removed a satin covered oval box from a pocket and held it out for him to see.

"It's beautiful," he replied in a shaky voice.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Stop talking and pay attention." She pulled back the clasp then raised the lid. Inside the satin box were two petite and beautifully decorated chocolate eggs.

Neville opened his mouth as if to say 'Oh', but he dared not make a sound.

Each egg was covered with roses made from icing, each was a different color.

"You may only eat one of these eggs. Do you see this green one here?"

Neville nodded.

"You may eat only this egg, and you may only eat it when Potter is near to you, but no one else. Then you must get him to eat the other egg. Is that understood?"

Again, Neville nodded. "Then what do I do?"

Bella smiled and placed her wand under his chin, encouraging him to look up, "Then you will bring him to us outside the gates. Do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am."

~SH~

Severus extinguished the flame from under the cauldron and then levitated it over to another work table. After this last potion cooled, he'd bottle it and then return to Hogwarts.

He'd worked most of the night, brewing potions for the Dark Lord, and it was now well into the wee hours of Monday morning. But thankfully there'd be no sixth year potions class to teach this day and none all week for that matter, as the students had returned to their homes for Easter break.

He leaned against the table and stared around the laboratory. It was located in an underground room and even after all these months, he still had no idea as to the location of this manor. The summoning Apparation always brought him to the foyer he'd seen that first night of Voldemort's return. Then he was escorted immediately down a stairway to the laboratory and had never been allowed access to any window.

He divided this last potion evenly between the awaiting vials and corked each one. His work completed, he went to gather his cloak but stopped when the door slammed abruptly open and in rushed Pettigrew.

"You must come with me."

Severus looked disdainfully at the little wizard. "And why might that be." He replied in a cool voice.

"It's our master, he's ill."

"Another headache?"

Peter nodded in a jerking fashion.

While contemplating the possibility that Pettigrew had spent too much time in his Animagus form, Severus stepped quickly to the store cupboard to retrieve the necessary medicinal potions.

Severus leaned over the still figure of the Dark Lord as he slept.

Judging the crisis as having been rectified, the tired potion master stood up wearily and nodded toward the door. "Come with me, I need to discuss the dosages with you."

Peter headed toward the door as Severus went to gather the few vials of unused potions. When he turned, he noticed that the drapes were open and so quickly surveyed the nearby surroundings to see if he could garner any clues as to the location of the manor.

~SH~

Harry yawned and stretched as he rolled onto his back. The immediate thought that he had overslept seized him and he shot up to a sitting position.

"Morning," said Neville.

"What time is it?" Harry asked in a panic.

"Just after seven."

"Shit, I'm gonna to be late for potions."

"Relax Harry, it's Easter break … remember?"

Harry already had one foot on the floor. "Oh yeah." He fell back into bed and pulled the covers over himself. "I forgot."

"What time did you get in?" Neville, already dressed, pulled on a shoe and began to do up the laces.

"Just after eleven. Channon left me some assignments and I was trying to get in some extra practice." Harry closed his eyes to savor this rare luxury of having no classes.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I have this extra credit project for Herbology and I was wondering if maybe you … Well, if …"

"Neville, just say it."

"Would you want to come with me to collect some Flitterbloom?" he said rather quickly.

Harry sat up and stared at Neville's expectant face. He felt badly for him because apparently, Neville's grandmother had gone off on some cruise and had left him at Hogwarts for the Easter break. "Sure Neville. That sounds like fun."

"Really Harry? Gee, thanks!"

"Wait a minute, where are they?"

"What?"

"The Flitterblooms?"

"Oh. They're just below the greenhouses."

"Okay, cause you know I have to stay within the wards, right?"

"Sure Harry."

Neville preoccupied himself with this and that while Harry got dressed.

"Okay, I'm ready. But let's get breakfast first cause I'm starving."

Neville jumped at the opportunity. "Then have one of these, my Gran sent them and they look really good."

He held out satin oval box and popped the green egg into his mouth.

Harry stared at the remaining decorated, chocolate egg and it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't received one of Mrs. Weasley's decorated eggs this year.

Feeling slightly hurt, Harry reached for the egg. "Thanks Neville," he said softly and then ate the egg.

~SH~

Severus strode briskly along the wooden bridge that led to the seldom-used west entrance of the castle. He hoped to enter the castle unnoticed and avoid drawing attention to the odd hour of his arrival. He walked through the alèe, then up the steps to the heavy wooden door and slipped quickly inside. The sight that greeted him stopped him dead in his tracks.

"What is going on here?"

Neville practically jumped out of his skin and almost let go of Harry. "Um, nothing Sir. We were just going outside for a bit."

"What's wrong with Mr. Potter?"

"Nothing Sir, he's just a little sleepy."

Snape stepped closer to check on Harry but Neville backed up in response. He had a tight grip on one of Harry's arms, which was slung across the back of Neville's neck, and he'd wrapped his other arm around Harry's waist and could barely manage to keep the semi-conscious teen in a vertical position.

Neville's defensive retreat spurred Snape to whip out his wand.

"Harry! What's wrong?"

Harry mumbled a few incoherent sounds.

"I'll ask you one more time Mr. Longbottom; what is wrong with Potter and where are you two going?"

Neville could only think about how he _had_ to get Harry out to the gates and so he decided to try exiting via the front entrance.

"Don't worry Professor, we'll just go back up to our dorm," he said and turned to go up the back staircase.

"Stay where you are Longbottom!" bellowed Snape.

Neville startled and lost his hold on Harry, who in turn slipped from the tenuous grasp and fell to the stone floor.

The imperiused teen grabbed hold of Harry's hand and tried to pull him up the stairs.

"Don't … Move!" Snape roared.

Neville let go of Harry's hand and plastered himself against the cold stone wall.

With his wand trained pointedly at Neville, Snape moved to Harry's side and made certain that the teen was still breathing. Then the livid wizard stood and with agonizing slowness, he stalked toward Neville.

"Look— at— me," Snape commanded in an intense, acidic tone. He was now standing directly in front of the shaking, terrified teen.

"Where were you taking Potter and what is wrong with him?" Snape hissed.

"I have to take him outside the wards."

Severus froze. He realized instantly what was taking place. "Who did this to you?"

"Sir, they'll kill her if I don't bring him."

"Kill who?" he pressed.

"My Gran."

"Who's going to kill her?" Snape pressed.

"I can't … tell you." Neville could barely get his words out because of the curse.

Snape had had enough. He raised his wand and incanted, "Finite."

Neville was hit with a wave of dizziness. He immediately slid down the wall and plopped to a seated position then buried his face in his hands and began to cry.

Severus was furious. He wanted to throttle Neville, but he needed information and he needed it quickly. So he took a deep breath, reigned in his emotions and used the calmest voice he could possibly manage to ask the young man to relay all the details of what had happened and most importantly, what he'd done to Harry.

In just minutes, Severus had called upon Dobby to bring Dumbledore down to the remote hallway. The old wizard took over the situation with Neville while Severus, with Harry slung over one shoulder, ran quickly down the stairs to his private potions lab.

~SH~

Severus had a pretty good idea what the chocolate egg had been laced with, as only two weeks ago he had received orders to brew batches of Befuddlement Draught, Confusing Concoction and a highly concentrated version of Calming Draught. Any one of these alone was relatively safe, but from the looks of Harry it would appear that they had used all three potions and it was a miracle he was still alive.

Severus rushed into the room and flicked his wand, which caused several cauldrons, vials and brewing ingredients to levitate up toward the ceiling. He carefully laid Harry down on the now clear worktable and then rushed over to the store cupboard to retrieve the needed antidotes and combined them into one vial.

Then Severus returned to the now unconscious teen and lifted up his head and upper torso to administer the antidotes. When he did so, Harry's shirt front opened and Severus startled when he saw the amulet lying against Harry's smooth chest.

_That's why he's still alive__, _Severus thought as he poured the combined antidotes into Harry's slightly open mouth.

"Come on," Severus pleaded and stroked Harry's throat in a downward motion. "Swallow."

After a few seconds, Harry finally swallowed the antidotes. Severus released a sigh of relief and lowered his head to rest momentarily upon Harry's chest.

~SH~

Around four o'clock that afternoon, Severus walked slowly to his kitchen to make some tea. He'd fallen asleep on the couch in his sitting room, and had recently woken up when Dumbledore arrived to fill him in on the ensuing events of the day.

He lit a fire under the pot then leaned against the counter and closed his eyes.

"Sir?"

The soft voice startled Severus. "What are you doing up?"

Harry felt like he'd had a terrible case of the flu. "Where am I, Sir?"

"My quarters." Severus looked at the pale teen as he leaned against the door jamb. "You had better sit down before you fall down."

Harry moved to sit in a nearby chair, but Severus met him and escorted him over to the couch, helped him to lay down and then spread a warm throw over him.

"How are you feeling?"

He shrugged his shoulders, closed his eyes and laid his head back upon the pillows.

"I was just making tea. I'll get you some."

"Sir … Why did he do it?"

"So you do remember," Severus answered from the kitchen. "I wondered if you would."

"I remember bits and pieces."

Severus returned with a cup of tea and offered it to Harry.

"I ate that egg ..." He raised a hand to his aching forehead, "then everything started spinning, but for some reason it didn't seem to matter."

He watched as Severus sat down across from him. "I should have defended myself."

"The egg contained two different Confusing potions and a concentrated Calming Draught. That is why you could not react."

"But why did he do it?"

Severus relayed all that Dumbledore had just told him: that Neville had been placed under an Imperius Curse and that the Death Eaters had threatened to kill Neville's grandmother if he was unsuccessful in getting Harry out beyond the wards.

"Is he okay?"

"Mr. Longbottom?"

Harry nodded.

"Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster are seeing to his needs."

"And his grandmother?"

Aurors were sent to her residence and have rescued her. She was uninjured, but St. Mungo's wants to keep her a couple of days for observation. Those who were guarding her managed to escape.

"Neville won't get in any trouble cause of this, will he? It wasn't his fault."

Severus was impressed by the fact that even though Neville's actions had almost killed Harry, his main concern right now was Neville's welfare.

"This is really going to upset him," Harry continued. He then laid his head against the back of the couch and shivered a little. Despite the tea and blanket he still felt cold. "Poor Neville."

Severus pointed his wand toward the hearth and increased the size of the fire. "Mr. Longbottom was clearly being controlled by the curse. To answer your question — No, charges will not be leveled against him." Severus took a sip of his tea. "With regards to his personal state … I believe the Headmaster is going to ask your counselor if she will speak with him."

"That's good." Harry said in relief. He sat quietly for a bit and stared at a grouping of botanical prints on the opposite wall.

"Sir, do you like roses?"

Severus startled slightly at the unexpected change of topic. "Why do you ask?"

"You have paintings of roses over there."

It seemed to Severus that Harry had an uncanny knack of catching him off guard, particularly in matters personal to him. "Well, as a matter of fact, I do," he said in a defensive tone.

"So do I."

Harry's admission earned two raised eyebrows. "You?"

Harry snapped out of his daze a bit and turned to look at his professor. "Yeah, me. I always did the gardening for my aunt. She has lots of roses."

Severus silently recalled seeing all the roses in the Dursley's garden that night last summer when he was sent to remove the evidence of Arthur's Bat Bogy Hexes.

Harry lolled his head back against the couch. "I have a favorite one," he sighed. "It's called 'Peace'."

Severus fingered the lip of his mug. "I am familiar with that cultivar." Then he paused a moment, debating. These forays into personal communication were still rather new to him and left Severus feeling uncomfortable. In all his life, he'd never divulged the simple fact that he, Severus Snape, feared potion master and double spy, had a favorite rose.

"I too have a favorite rose," he said softly.

Harry looked over with his droopy eyes. "Which one?"

Severus looked down, a bit embarrassed. "Souvenier de Madame Lèonie Viennot."

"You're putting me on."

"Not at all."

"Is there really a rose with a name like that?"

Then a miracle happened, Severus Snape actually chuckled. "Yes Harry, there is a rose named Souvenier de Madame Lèonie Viennot, and I'll have you know ..." Severus paused and smiled coyly.

"What?"

"Its coloring is very similar to your Peace rose."

"Really?"

Severus nodded and a little spot in his heart warmed at the fact that here he was, sharing a quiet conversation, about one of the few things in his life he considered beautiful.

"Perhaps someday I'll show you a picture of it."

"I'd like that." Then Harry offered, "Sir, thank you for letting me stay here and not taking me up to the infirmary." He glanced tentatively over at his professor

Their eyes met and held in a moment of understanding. "You're welcome, Harry,"

Severus sat quietly sipping his tea while Harry dozed. He thought about all the little instances Harry had tugged at his heart and about how Harry could say things that would leave him, Severus, feeling slightly off kilter and gave him pause to think.

He thought of that presence that had come to stay with him after he was injured last October and, then today, the flood of relief that had washed through him when Harry swallowed the antidote.

Severus realized what was happening. It was unsettling, and the part of him that dictated personal isolation suggested it would be best to distance himself from Harry. But his slowly awakening heart had a different opinion.

Severus looked over at the sleeping man across from him and recalled how it had felt to have Harry's love and protection be a part of him. All his life he'd isolated himself from others, but he wondered now if he might dare to take a chance at friendship, a friendship with Harry.

~SH~


	16. The Next Day

**16.** **The Next Day**

Severus grabbed hold of the door knob then paused.

He had a choice. Right now, on this side of the door he had a choice. But once he turned the knob and walked into that room, his life would be in the hands of a deranged wizard.

The Dark Lord was certain to be livid over the failed abduction, so the foreboding silence that emanated from the other side of the door made Severus uneasy.

Before, that hadn't mattered. No one would have cared if he lived or died, except Albus and two house elves, but now…

He pushed all of that from his mind, occluded, and turned the knob.

~SH~

Neville fastened the two buckles that secured his valise and had just reached for his Mimbulus Mimbletonia when he heard the door open behind him.

He whirled around and his heart sank when he saw Harry staring at him from the doorway of the sixth year boy's dorm.

"I was trying to leave before you got here."

"But we need to talk."

Neville lowered his head in embarrassment. He knew that Harry was right and that he, Neville needed to apologize. But he was so utterly ashamed of himself that he hadn't been able to find the strength to go find Harry, to look him in the eye and beg his forgiveness.

"Please," continued Harry as he closed the door, "I want to apologize."

"What do you mean? _I'm_ the one who needs to apologize to _you_."

Harry shook his head. "No, don't you understand?" He walked across the room. "You and your grandmother were hurt because of me."

"You're not making any sense Harry," responded a completely baffled Neville. "I'm the one who hurt you! Thank goodness the Headmaster stopped me in time."

Neville's words confirmed to Harry what the Headmaster had told him that morning. That in order to protect Snape's facade as a Death Eater, Dumbledore had Obliterated Neville's memory of his encounter with Snape the previous morning.

Harry felt guilty at having to lie to his friend, but there was no choice. "Yeah, I know … But Neville, it wasn't your fault; it was the Death Eaters. They used you to get to me."

"Yeah, and they picked me because I'm weak and stupid."

"Oh Neville," Harry said with a sigh. "You're not stupid."

He sat down on Neville's bed. "You're plenty smart; you just don't have much confidence, that's all."

Harry lowered his head. "You were hurt because of me, and I'm sorry for that. I'm just grateful you didn't end up dead like my parents and Sirius … and Cedric. Or like what happened to ..." Harry couldn't finish the sentence.

Neville stared down at his upset friend. He hadn't even considered the scenario from this perspective. He placed his valise on the floor then sat down next to Harry.

"Look, I know I don't have any right to say this."

"You have every right, Neville. Just go ahead and say it." Harry assumed that Neville was about to agree that he, Harry, was the root cause of what had happened.

"You're not the one that caused all those deaths, or what happened to Anthony," he said the name softly. "All of that happened because of You Know Who, not you."

The two young men sat quietly for a while, side by side upon the bed. Then Harry spoke in a thin voice. "I thought that with me staying in the castle no one else would get hurt." He shook his head. "But it's not working out that way."

The fact that Snape had been summoned that morning didn't make matters any better.

"After what happened to," Harry shrugged his shoulder instead of saying Anthony's name, "I know I can never get involved with anyone else. I can never put anyone in that kind of danger ever again."

He stared out the window and continued. "But now he's coming after my friends and I don't know how to stop him."

Listening to Harry speak of the enormous burden that weighed upon him, Neville's worries of what people might think of him, after the news of this incident got out, seemed rather small and insignificant.

"Why does all of this have to be on your shoulders? Why can't someone find a way to help?"

"Dumbledore has tried …"

"Well, maybe he needs to try harder," Neville said emphatically.

He hated seeing Harry so distraught over something that he couldn't change. Neville's concern made him want to reach out to help, and the terrible guilt that had weighed upon him seemed to lighten.

"Listen, I'm Flooing out of the Headmaster's office in just a bit; why don't you come with me? You could ask him to help you."

Harry smiled at Neville's innocence.

"That's a really good idea," he placated, "but I'm supposed to go see Madame Pomfrey in a few minutes."

The alarmed look on Neville's face spurred Harry to explain.

"She just wants to give me the once over; you know how she is."

"Yeah, I know."

"But I'll definitely talk to Dumbledore this week."

Neville smiled and then stood up, "Well, I have to get going."

It was only then that Harry actually noticed the packed valise. "Where are you going?"

"Home," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "The Healers are releasing Gran this morning and she wants me to come home for the rest of the break."

"Are you guys going to be okay though?"

"Don't worry Harry. The Ministry assigned us a couple of Aurors to guard our house. We'll be fine."

Neville picked up his valise. "So we're okay? You and me?"

Harry stood up. "Yeah, we're okay," he said and shoved Neville gently.

~SH~

Harry took it easy that afternoon, as per Madame Pomfrey's orders, by lying on his bed and studying the treatise Channon had given him - A Practical Guide to Concurrent Spell Casting.

The first chapter had dealt solely on the multiple casting of a single spell. Harry had wanted to give it a try and so he chose an easy charm: Wingardium Leviosa. Now above him floated various objects belonging to his dorm mates: numerous copies of Quidditch Weekly, dirty socks, textbooks and the like.

Casting the simple charm multiple times had proven easy, in fact, the powerful young wizard was enjoying himself, so he attempted to see if he could cast another type of charm while still maintaining what he'd already cast.

He broke off another chunk of the chocolate Easter egg that had finally arrived from Mrs. Weasley and had been certified as 'safe for consumption' by Dumbledore, as he eyed Ron's pillow, and then silently and wandlessly performed a Summoning Charm.

Nothing happened, the pillow sat scrunched up at the head of Ron's bed.

"Huh," he said and then picked up his wand and tried it again, but still silently.

Again, the pillow just sat there.

"What the hell?" He huffed and then tried it again, but this time he incanted the charm verbally.

"Accio."

The pillow flew across the room and Harry had to grab it so that it didn't smack him in the face. At that very moment, Fawkes appeared over his bed in a flash of light.

The combined disruption of the pillow and the Phoenix caused Harry to lose his concentration, and all of the previously floating objects came crashing to the floor.

The large scarlet bird hovered in place over Harry's bed and watched as the objects rained down around him; he then eyed Harry.

"I was practicing," Harry said defensively.

Without further adieu, the Familiar dropped the letter he held in his talons and then disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

Harry wondered what Fawkes must think of him as he snatched up the letter and tore back the flap.

_Dear Harry, _

_If your schedule allows, would you be so kind as to visit me at your earliest convenience? _

_These days I very much fancy Ice Mice. _

_Yours, _

_Albus Dumbledore_

~SH~

Harry knocked softly on the Headmaster's office door.

"Enter."

The teen opened the door tentatively. "Is something wrong Headmaster?"

"Not at all my boy, do come in," Dumbledore said in a cheery voice.

Harry stepped fully into the office and startled at the familiar voice that called out to him.

"Hello Harry. How are you feeling?" asked Remus in that soft spoken voice of his.

Harry was too shocked to respond.

"Nothing to say?"

"I … What are you doing here?" Harry responded bluntly.

Remus recoiled slightly at Harry's curt tone.

"We don't we all have some tea," Dumbledore said in a light tone, trying to diffuse the tension.

Remus attempted some light conversation with Harry while the tea was served, but his questions and remarks received only one worded answers so he gave up, and instead proceeded to deliver his report to Dumbledore.

Harry sat and sipped his tea as he listened to Remus discuss what he'd been doing for the Order over the past few months. Apparently Remus had actually traveled quite a bit and all of his activities had required secrecy as they pertained to securing alliances with some of the less popular societies of magical creatures.

After having listened to the two wizards for over an hour, Harry realized that it would indeed have been impossible for Remus to come and visit. And as the tea slowly drained from Harry's cup, the resentment that had built up within him eased.

When the teen began to engage in the conversation, Dumbledore excused himself from the room, claiming he had another matter which needed his attention.

Harry and Remus continued their conversation, and even though now Harry wasn't angry at the man, he felt as though a chasm existed between them. So much had happened over the past year, not to mention all the other critical episodes in Harry's life since the death of his parents, and for whatever the reason, Remus happened to never be there.

"So, what are your plans for the remainder of the school term?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Just classes and Quidditch."

"And how are you doing these days with regards to …" Remus made a small gesture but didn't finish the sentence.

"To what?"

"You know … dating."

Harry tensed. "I'm not," he said flatly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to …"

"It's okay. I just don't have time for that sort of thing."

They sat in silence as the mantle clock ticked away the seconds. Remus was frustrated at himself for his blunder and Harry just wished this little chat would be over with.

"How about your training? Do you like Professor Jackson?"

"He's taught me a lot."

More silence.

"Such as?"

"Um, we've done silent spells and wandless spells." Harry fiddled nervously with a loose thread at the knee of his trousers. "After this break we're gonna work on casting simultaneous spells. You know, stuff like that."

Remus grinned at Harry's nonchalant attitude with regards to his magical abilities.

"That's very impressive; you should be proud of what you've accomplished."

Harry definitely didn't want the conversation to go down this track, so he quickly changed the subject.

"So how long are you here for?"

"I'm afraid I'll have to leave as soon as I collect my new supply of Wolfsbane potion.

Harry's heart sank to the floor. "Oh." _I should have known he wouldn't have come all this way just to see me. _

"Speaking of which," Remus rose from his chair, "I wonder if Severus has returned?"

"He has indeed," Albus responded as he stepped from the Floo, "and he is waiting for you in his lab."

Remus offered his farewells to Dumbledore and Harry then he shook their hands and departed.

Harry walked over to the tall window and stared out to the lake.

"Are you all right my boy?"

"Yeah," he said in an unconvincing tone. "Is Professor Snape okay?"

"He is indeed. And might I add his meeting with Voldemort was quite illuminating."

Harry was grateful for the change of subject. "It was?"

"Very much so." Dumbledore sat down and patted his hand on the settee. When Harry sat down next to him the old wizard looked intently into those green eyes.

"Harry, are you aware of any connection between yourself and Voldemort?"

"You mean my scar?"

"No, not your scar."

The teen was at a loss. "I don't understand."

Dumbledore leaned back and lightly brushed away a few pieces of lint from his lavender robe. "Have you experienced any nightmares or headaches since the night of Samhain?"

"Oh, no I haven't. But you already know that."

"I want to be certain of the facts."

"But why, Sir? What's this all about?"

"Apparently, ever since your counter attack upon Voldemort last October, he hasn't been himself."

"What d'you mean?"

"I'm sure you've noticed that the attacks on the Embassies never resumed."

"Sure I did. But I thought maybe he was doing some other stuff."

"Well, the other _stuff_ as you put it has been relatively minor in comparison. And now today when Professor Snape met with him …"

"What happened Sir?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Nothing and it was this lack of response from Voldemort that Professor Snape found surprising."

"You mean about what happened yesterday."

Dumbledore nodded.

"So?" Harry pressed.

"Tell me, what would you have expected his response to be?"

"I thought he'd be really angry."

"As did I."

"But he wasn't?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Professor Snape described Voldemort's attitude as dispirited."

"Huh."

"My feelings exactly."

Dumbledore started to bob his foot up and down and Harry watched the tassel of the plum colored shoe bounce around from the motion.

"So what do you think it all means Sir?" he asked as he continued to watch the tassel.

"I believe Harry that your counter attack had a profound affect on Tom. I don't fully understand the situation, but no doubt a situation does exist."

"Wow."

"There is another topic which we need to discuss."

Harry dreaded it whenever the Headmaster said that to him. "Yes Sir?"

"In my discussions with Mr. Longbottom, he stated that, over the past few weeks, he had made several attempts to coerce you to leave the castle. Is that true?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"And you found nothing strange about this?"

"But Sir … it was Neville," Harry pleaded. "Don't get me wrong; he's my friend and all that, but Neville's a little um … weird," he said and shrugged.

"Ah yes. Well, never the matter — in the future Harry you must be on your guard. Report any odd behavior from any of the students or faculty."

"Yes Sir."

"Be wary if someone hands you something to touch or offers you food to partake."

"Yes Sir," Harry answered contritely. "I'm sorry, Sir."

"You have no need to apologize. And mind you, I do not wish for you to become paranoid; you simply must be on your guard."

"The charm is still in effect, right Sir?"

"That it is. You cannot be taken past the wards against your will. But that doesn't prevent someone from trying to Portkey you out, or as in Mr. Longbottom's case — from drugging you. The only one who would suffer in either case would be you, I'm afraid."

Harry entertained the thought of a Portkey slamming him into Dumbledore's protective ward.

"Let's just consider this a lesson learned and move forward."

"Yes Sir."

Dumbledore stood up. "I don't know about you, but I am quite hungry. Shall we walk down for dinner?"

Harry was surprised at the invitation. "Yes Sir, thank you." It had been a long afternoon and now that Harry thought about it, he was quite hungry.

"By the way, how are you progressing with your assignment from Professor Jackson?"

"Good. That multiple casting stuff is kind of fun."

"I had a feeling that would be the case," Dumbledore said as proceeded down the spiral staircase. "That is why I've asked Professor Snape if he will work with you this week, in Professor Jackson's absence."

"Oh, okay." Harry said and smiled at the prospect.

~SH~


	17. Change of Tide

**17. Change of Tide**

"Impressive!" exclaimed Channon just before he popped another Bertie Botts Bean into his mouth. "It would seem Professor Snape didn't give me the full story."

Harry tensed. "What did he say?"

"Only that you made progress."

"That was it?"

Channon nodded. "I would say you made tremendous progress."

"Thanks," Harry said and sighed with relief.

"Is everything all right? Did something happen between you two?"

"Oh no, it's just …" Harry fished, "It's just that I worked really hard over break to try and get this multicasting thing down."

Channon appraised Harry discerningly. He knew that the teen was holding something back, but Channon decided not to press the matter. "I wouldn't say you've mastered multicasting …"

"That's not what I meant."

"Come on, let's get back to it." Channon turned his student to face the center of the room. "You're doing well with multiple charms and combining charms and jinxes. How about you multicast a couple of regular spells and we'll add a jinx and one hex."

"Are you're kidding?"

"Not at all. Let's see …" Channon squinted and looked toward the ceiling. "What would be a good hex?"

~SH~

As Harry stood in the Room of Requirement getting ready to cast his spells, Severus was on his knees back in the Voldemort's drawing room, waiting for his turn to be summoned.

Just as he had the previous fall, the Dark Lord was holding sessions with his Death Eaters. But unlike before when he'd met with each one individually, tonight he summoned them in small groups.

Again, Severus was the last one called and as it turned out, he was the only Death Eater to be called individually. He kept his head lowered as he went to kneel before the Dark Lord.

"No Severus, sit next to me."

Severus sat down in a nearby chair and thought how the Dark Lord's voice still sounded weak.

"Look at me," ordered Voldemort.

Severus hesitated at the unexpected request but then glanced over at the Dark Lord.

"Do I appear any different to you?"

"No, my Lord."

Voldemort casually waved his hand across his face, cancelling the Glamour.

"I should have expected this," Severus responded at the sight that now greeted him. "My Lord, you are not well."

"You are mistaken," Voldemort retorted, despite his sunken cheeks, pallid complexion and the dark circles under his eyes. "I _was_ ill, but I am improving. Can you guess my ailment?"

"I wouldn't dare."

"Oh please Severus, appease me," Voldemort teased.

"Does this have anything to do with Potter?"

"Partially."

All this time Severus had thought that the Dark Lord might be experiencing something akin to what he himself had been experiencing. But if that was the case, the Dark Lord would surely never divulge such a fact, that Harry's counterattack was wrecking havoc on him. No, this had to be something else.

"This all started with Samhain?"

"Yes."

_All of those attacks upon the embassies__, and a__fterward he'd been bed ridden for days and had obviously struggled now for months_… "Burnout?"

Voldemort nodded. "Very good. Not total burnout mind you, but it was a severe case."

"My Lord, is there anything I can do to help?"

Voldemort raised a hand. "I am much improved. Besides, you know as well as I … the only cure for magical burnout is rest. But I've grown tired with this quietude, and thus the impetus for my little gathering this evening."

"And what is it my Lord requires of me?"

"Your only task is to continue making the potions I request, that and to keep an eye on Potter."

"Of course, my Lord."

Voldemort traced his finger along the carvings of the wooden chair handle. "Even though Dumbledore is keeping the boy under his wing, there is always the possibility for error."

"And you want me to be ready for such an occurrence."

Voldemort leered, "That is exactly what I want. I intend to do away with that boy and I shall succeed. But I am finished wasting my every waking moment preoccupied with his activities. I will leave that up to you and to the others who have been assigned to the same task. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, my Lord."

~SH~

Tonks stood up from the Pensive and pushed her orange hair back into place.

"Well?" asked Arthur.

"Not a clue. Never seen the place."

Dumbledore Accio'd the Pensive to him and then set about retrieving Severus' memory. "Well, this is a puzzle."

"How is it possible that not one of us knows where this place is?"

"The world's a big place Tonks," stated Mad-eye.

"But Severus said he thought it must be on the island," countered Molly.

"Apparation and Portkey travel times can be misleading," added Shacklebolt. "This place could be in France, Germany or Ireland for that matter."

The Order members were sitting around the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place. They'd all taken a turn to look at Severus' memory of the view he'd seen from Voldemort's bedroom window.

"I suppose we're back to square one," Albus surmised with dejection. "We'll just have to hope that another opportunity presents itself."

"This is so frustrating, and I'm worried about these assignments You Know Who gave to the Death Eaters," Molly added as she began to clear away the empty tea cups. "What do you think he's up to now?"

"At least we've made good progress with the new Muggle Diplomatic Relations policy," chimed Arthur. "That should be of some help if he tries anything like he did last October."

"With Tom's current condition, he'll be unable to assist the Death Eaters in whatever their assignment is," critiqued Albus. "No, I believe whatever he has planned — it will be a focused attack, be it on a single place or a single individual."

~SH~

"We're going to clobber Slytherin."

"Ron, you're going to jinx us talking like that," reprimanded Harry as he crawled into bed.

"No way, Harry. You guys have it all over those snakes" Seamus exclaimed. "There's nothing anyone could say that would jinx you guys."

"I agree with Harry," added Dean as he turned out his light. "It's tempting fate."

Harry glanced over when the door to the dorm opened and Neville slipped quietly into the room.

Everyone had turned out their lights now except for Neville, and he quickly set about getting ready to retire for the night.

The experience of being cursed, his grandmother being held captive and then damn near killing Harry had weighed heavy on the young man. It didn't help matters any that the Headmaster had addressed the entire student body upon their return, warning them to be on their guard lest they fall into a similar situation. Or that each Head of House had held meetings with their houses to go over precautionary measures in an attempt to avoid becoming the next instrument for the Death Eaters. Or that Professor Jackson had spent an entire week with each DADA class, third year and over, reviewing the Imperius Curse, Portkey operations and the like.

All of that had only managed to shed a continued spotlight on Neville, and he'd made a point to remain as scarce as possible.

"Good night Neville," Harry called over when he saw the light go out.

"Oh, you too Harry. Good night everyone."

"Goodnight Nev," they responded in unison.

Harry smiled to himself as he rolled onto his side. He was pleased and relieved at how supportive everyone had been toward Neville. _I guess it__'__ll just take time for __him__ to get over it._

He closed his eyes and thought about his training session with Channon that night. _I wonder how he knew? Snape would never have said anything. _

Just thinking about what had happened last Saturday morning was enough to rouse Harry. _Oh fuck, not now. I gotta get some sleep_.

But the more he tried not to think about what happened in that training session with Snape, the more he wound up doing just the opposite, and he grew harder and harder. _God damn it!_

He threw back his blankets and jumped out of his bed.

"Where are you going?" asked Ron. "You need a good night's sleep. The game …"

"Ron," Harry snapped back in a whispered voice. "I know the game is tomorrow. I'm going to the loo. Is that okay?"

"Oh, sorry mate. Guess I'm just nervous."

"Yeah well, whatever. Just go to sleep."

Harry hurried down the hallway and hoped that no one would see his tented pajama bottoms.

Luckily everyone had turned in and the bathroom was empty. Harry slipped into the cubicle with the intent to take a quick cold shower.

It had been six months since Samhain and in all that time he'd felt dead as far as his groin was concerned. But then last Saturday, when Harry's Hex Reversing hex backfired and had caused him to fall on top of Snape and he felt — Snape, he couldn't believe it. He was still in awe by the size of it.

Harry had meant to turn on just a little bit of hot water, just so that he wouldn't freeze to death, but he absently turned on more and more, and instead of a quick cold shower, he lingered under the warm water and began to stroke himself. Just thinking about Snape's size, not to mention how big he would be when he was hard would have been enough to make Harry come in only a matter of seconds. But added to that was the awkward week of Potions classes.

Every time Snape had walked by, or had stood next to Harry or even behind him to inspect his and Hermione's work, all Harry could think about was that Snape's large cock was right next to him. Harry had even chanced a sideways glance, knowing that it was right there next to him, barricaded behind those black robes.

Snape had caught him at it, but instead of reprimanding him, he leaned down and whispered, "Try to concentrate on your work, Harry."

The fact that Snape hadn't hit him upside the head, but had instead been understanding, left Harry confused yet intrigued.

He smiled, tipped his head back under the warm water and stroked himself as he thought about that large, large cock.

~SH~

Unlike Ron had predicted, Gryffindor was not 'clobbering' Slytherin in the Quidditch Finals. No, the game had turned out to be one of those 'on the edge of your seat, nail-biter' sort of a games and the score had been neck-and-neck for over three hours now.

All the action thus far had centered upon the Chasers, the Beaters and the Keepers and each of them had played at the top of their game.

But while all of this activity played out below and the minutes ticked into hours, Harry and Draco never let up their pursuit of the Snitch for they had to keep tabs on its whereabouts — just in case an opportunity presented itself.

That opportunity came three and a half hours into the match.

Gryffindor scored when Blaise Zabini failed to block one of Katie's hits and then before he could recover, Jack Sloper's missed-hit Bludger glanced off the Slytherin's shoulder, which in turn allowed Alicia's Quaffle to get by.

Gryffindor was now up by forty points.

Then, when Vaisey tried to blatch Katie, Slytherin was penalized ten points for the foul.

Harry shifted into gear.

He had just seen the Snitch when the foul occurred, so he took off as fast as he could and flew across the pitch to the Snitch, which was hovering a top of the center Slytherin hoop.

He chose a direct path, but he had to fly through enemy territory to get there. His one advantage was speed. No one could fly as fast as Harry. Hell, at this speed it was a challenge to even keep him in sight.

Harry whipped past the hoop and grabbed the Snitch, thus ending the game and securing the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor.

The crowd erupted in a cacophony of cheers and boos. Hermione grabbed Neville, who'd been sitting next to her, kissed him on the lips and then began to jump up and down in her joy, while a stunned Neville placed his fingers tentatively upon his lips.

The entire team circled around Harry and they slowly descended to the ground, relishing in their accomplishment and drinking in the sounds of jubilation pouring out from the stands.

~SH~

"Harry, will you hurry the fuck up! We want to get up to the party."

"You guys go on. Neville will walk up with me, right Nev?"

"Sure Harry."

"Oh all right," replied Ron. "But hurry up."

Ron and Dean left to walk up to the castle, leaving Harry and Neville in the Gryffindor changing room.

"You okay?" asked Harry as he toweled his hair dry. "You look a little odd."

Neville kept running his fingers along his lips. "I'm okay. It's just that … Oh, it's nothing."

"No, tell me. What were you gonna say?"

"You promise you won't laugh?"

Harry sat down next to Neville and pulled on one of his shoes. "I promise I won't laugh."

"Well, right after you caught the Snitch … everyone got really excited."

"Yeah, I noticed." Harry had finished lacing up one shoe and was just pulling on the other.

"Anyway, in all the excitement, Hermione… She… Well…"

"Just say it already, will you?"

"She kissed me!"

Harry turned and stared at Neville. He wasn't sure if he should lie and congratulate him, or be honest. He chose to be honest.

"Listen Neville, you know that Ron and Hermione …"

"I know that they're a couple. It's just that … well, that's the first time a girl has ever kissed me. I didn't think any of them would ever want to."

"Oh, Neville, why would you say something like that?"

"Come on Harry. It's not like I'm you."

"You must be thinking of someone else. Besides, there are plenty of girls that like you."

"Oh yeah? Name one."

"Luna Lovegood," Harry said emphatically.

"Luna?"

"Yeah, Luna."

"How do you know?"

"Cause she looks at you, all the time."

"Really?"

"You're so blinkered." He gave Neville a friendly shove. "Come on, let's head on up. We'll stop by Ravenclaw and invite her to the party."

"Oh, I don't know."

"It'll be fine. The worse she can say is 'no'."

"Well, all right. But wait just a minute, I gotta loo."

"Take your time." Harry proceeded to shove his things in his rucksack while Neville headed off to the loo.

As Neville was just finishing up, he heard a commotion out in the locker room. Harry called out, there was some wand fire and then a crashing sound.

Neville thought his heart may have skipped a beat, but he managed to pull out his wand and tip toe quietly to the lavatory entrance. He peeked around the corner and saw Harry lying unconscious on the floor, above him stood a man Neville had never seen before. Then, the stranger pulled an object from his pocket and went to lay it on top of Harry's chest.

Neville sprang into action. "Stupify!"

The stranger flew backwards and landed in a heap next to the lockers.

Shocked that he'd managed to actually hit his target, Neville ran to Harry and shook his shoulder.

"Harry? Wake up. Please, I don't know what to do."

Harry was totally out and he had a wound right over his temple.

Neville thought about running up to the castle to get help, but what if there was an accomplice waiting somewhere out there.

He knew what he had to do. It didn't matter now that he'd never been able to accomplish it in the DA. Harry needed help, and it was up to Neville to get it.

He walked over to the door and opened it a crack. When he didn't see anyone, he opened it a bit more.

Neville knew he needed to think of something happy, so he thought about how wonderful it felt when Hermione had kissed him. He pointed his wand and called out, "Expecto Patronum!"

Then he watched in disbelief as a pale silvery peacock emerged from his wand and flew toward the castle to summon help.

~SH~

"Albus, will you please do something about the crowd outside the doors? They're making too much noise."

Dumbledore was standing next to Harry's bed. "Of course, Poppy."

He patted the teen's shoulder then moved off toward the infirmary entrance. The Headmaster was upset that, once again, Harry had come to harm here on Hogwarts grounds. _I must find a way to prevent these occurrences_, he charged himself.

"Madame Pomfrey, can't I please just go? I'm okay," pleaded Harry.

"You stay right where you are Mr. Potter, or I'll place a binding blanket on you."

Defeated, Harry sighed and laid his head on the pillow. "Yes Ma'am."

"Don't fret Harry," Channon said softly. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. "It's probably best you let her keep an eye on you … just to be on the safe side."

Harry raised a hand to his aching forehead. "I can't believe this happened. What good is multicasting when someone can sneak up from behind and Stupify me."

"That has to do with strategy, a totally different subject." Channon stared out the window and squinted his eyes.

"Uh oh, what are you planning now?" asked Harry.

Channon smiled. "How did you know I …"

"You were doing that squinting thing," Harry interrupted. "That always means you're coming up with something new for me to learn."

His professor chuckled. "I suppose you're right."

"So? What is it?"

"We'll talk about it tomorrow after class, that is if Madame Pomfrey releases you."

"I hope so. I really hate," his sentence was interrupted as he yawned, "staying in here."

"Looks like you better get some sleep." Channon stood up and turned to see Albus approach with Neville at his side.

"Harry, there's someone who wants to be certain that you're all right," the Headmaster announced.

"You okay?" asked Neville.

"Yeah, I'm okay. If it wasn't for you," Harry yawned again, "I'd probably be splattered all over one of the wards."

"I doubt you would have _splattered_, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore smiled.

"Anyway, thanks Neville," Harry said softly. He was really getting sleepy.

"I was only able to help cause of everything you taught us in DA."

Harry smiled but drifted off before he could say anything else.

"You showed true courage tonight, Mr. Longbottom," said Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Sir." Neville looked down, "But …"

"But what?"

"Sir, I wasn't brave tonight. I was scared." His voice quavered a bit, "I just didn't want Harry to get hurt."

"Mr. Longbottom, one is courageous when one demonstrates bravery despite their fear."

Dumbledore placed his hand on Neville's shoulder. "Please look at me."

Neville raised his eyes. "Yes Sir?"

"You saved Harry's life tonight. I thank you and I honor you for your courage."

Neville could hardly believe the Headmaster had just said that to him and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he also felt a rare sense of pride.

~SH~

Author notes:  
>Neville did not have a Patronus in canon, but he had to have one for this chapter, so I did some research to find out what his character symbolized. (There's a wonderful website that discusses this very topic: www harrypotterforseekers )<p>

Apparently, Neville's character symbolizes the Gatekeeper. Now I needed an animal that symbolizes the Gatekeeper, and that is how I came up with a peacock (it's from a Muslim legend which states that the peacock is the Gatekeeper for paradise). Anyway, there you have it. I like the idea that Neville would have such a beautiful Patronus


	18. Guarded Questions

**8. Guarded Questions**

Severus' cup of Ceylon tea sat forgotten on the table as he stared at his kitchen wall. He was preoccupied with the events of the previous day and upset over the fact that the person who'd attacked Harry turned out to be the father of a fourth year Slytherin.

The perpetrator's daughter held one of the reserve Chaser positions on the team, and so he'd been allowed passage to attend the Quidditch final. Unfortunately he was operating under the Imperious Curse and his real intent had been to kidnap Harry.

This marked the second time, during this school term, that the house of Slytherin had been tarnished.

Added to that, Severus had endured another nightmare the previous night. It had started as it always did, but this time when he heard the scream, the person that pulled him from the mist was Harry.

Severus ground his teeth in frustration. He prided himself in being able to disengage and control his emotions; this ability was essential for him to successfully fulfill his role as a spy.

These continued nightmares of when he was a child now coupled with his lingering thoughts of Harry had Severus at a loss.

Severus? Are you up? Hallo? Oh Severus …" Dumbledore called out from the Floo.

"Of course I'm up!" Severus snapped back. "I'm teaching class soon, you old fool."

The elderly wizard stepped gracefully from Severus' Floo. "Bad night?"

All he got for his concern was a snarl, so he left Severus to his foul mood and proceeded to the kitchen to pour a cup tea. "Might you have any vanilla?"

"Merlin's sake Albus, how can you do that to perfectly good tea?"

"Have you ever tried it?"

"Spice rack, top shelf," Severus said and cast a warming charm on his own cup.

Dumbledore sat down at the tiny wooden table and looked expectantly at his favorite protégé.

"What?" snapped Severus.

"Why don't you save the dramatics for someone who doesn't know you," returned Dumbledore.

"My apologies," Severus said. Then he sighed and added, "I slept poorly."

"Because of yesterday's events?"

"Partly."

Albus chose not to pursue the matter but instead got to business. "I need your help. _We_ need your help."

"And who might _we_ be?"

"Humanity," Dumbledore said simply.

Severus stared at the clear blue eyes. "You're talking about Harry."

"Yes." Dumbledore waited while Severus took a sip of his tea before he continued. "There is only so much that I can do to protect him; it obviously hasn't been enough."

Severus knew the old man was right. But this would mean more private time spent with Harry.

"You're just as knowledgeable in Strategy and Intelligence as I am," he countered.

"But you are far more skilled in its practical application.

Severus huffed, "Unfortunately, you are correct."

"Why do you say that? I thought you and Harry were getting along well these days."

The incident with the Hex Deflecting Hex was just the tip of the iceberg. "We are, it's just that …" He paused mid-sentence then changed tack. "It's personal."

Dumbledore remained silent as he waited for Severus to yield. He didn't have to wait long.

"All right, I'll work with him, for I too want Harry to survive and not just for him to save mankind."

"Thank you, Severus."

~SH~

Bellatrix apparated to the entryway of Malfoy manor and then marched determinately to the front door. It was locked.

"Sod all," she huffed then pulled out her wand. "Alohomora."

The door opened and she stepped into the foyer.

"Cissy?" the dark haired witch called out as she walked toward the living room.

"Bella," Narcissa stood at the top of the stairs, "Who let you in?"

"Why did you lock your Floo? I had to apparate and walk through the front door like a commoner."

"Whether or not our front door is locked," said Lucius Malfoy in his silky voice as he walked out of the master bedroom, "and whether or not we lock our Floo is none of your concern — Bella."

"Well hallo — Lucius," the pitch of her voice sailed up and down across her greeting. "You look pale," she teased as she sauntered over to the base of the staircase. "Was it terrible in Azkaban?"

"You of all people would know."

"Touché."

"Will you two stop it," scolded Narcissa. "The others will be here shortly."

"Is there any coffee? It's far too early in the morning. I'll need some coffee if we're to be planning mass escapes," Bella rambled as she headed down the hallway toward the kitchen.

"Oh Lucius," Narcissa sighed as she leaned against his chest. "Why does this have to take place today? You need to rest and regain your strength."

"I'll be fine Cissy," he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Now that I'm home and out of that hellhole …"

"Don't think of that place." She reached up and kissed him. "You're home now and that's all that matters."

~SH~

Everyone at the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers and applause when Ron and the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. They stood in the doorway and drank in the adoration before they took their places at the table.

"Where's Harry?" asked Dean when the team took their seats. "I thought you guys went to go and get him so you could all walk in together."

"We did," replied Ron, "but Pomfrey says he has to stay in the infirmary today."

"She let Ron and me in to go and see him," added Hermione, "but he was still asleep."

She poured herself a cup of coffee then continued, "Madame Pomfrey said that everything was just catching up with him, the long game, getting Stupefied and then the concussion."

"That sucks," added Seamus. "He missed out on a great party."

"Couldn't we have another one when Harry's feeling better?" asked Neville.

"Yeah, why not?" added Ginny. "We could have one this weekend."

"Yeah, let's do it," Ron seconded enthusiastically. "I'll see if the twins can come and bring some of their stuff. We'll make it a real bash."

They continued to plan the party and start in on their breakfasts, everyone except for Hermione. She had received her copy of the Daily Prophet and was staring dumbfounded at the front page.

"How come you're not eating, Mione?" asked Ron, his mouth now full of food.

"I don't believe it." She handed him the paper and then chanced a glance of Draco.

He sat at the Slytherin table, smirking as always, while all his friends around him spoke in hushed whispers.

"For the love of…!" exclaimed Ron. He choked down his food before trying to continue. "How did he manage to pull that off?"

"What are you on about Ron?" asked Ginny.

"Lucius Malfoy was released from Azkaban, apparently over some technicality," replied Hermione as Ron continued to read the article, the color of his face grew redder with each word.

"Technicality my foot," said Ginny. "He got out because he paid somebody off."

"Or perhaps it was because of something else," Hermione said as she thought about the two recent cases of Imperius Curse.

"The tosser!" continued Ron.

"Mr. Weasley!" Professor McGonagall called out in a stern tone.

"Oh, oh," whispered Ron and he stared at his eggs with sudden trepidation.

"What did I tell you about using vulgar language in public places?"

"Sorry Professor."

Hermione glared at Ron and mouthed the words, _Turn around and look at her._

Ron did a one eighty on the bench. "Professor, I'm really, really sorry. It's just that …"

"I am not interested in your excuse." She stared down and pursed her lips. "One more time and you'll be in detention for the remainder of the term. Do I make myself clear?"

Ron sagged and looked down, thoroughly chastised. "Yes Ma'am."

McGonagall gave a sharp sigh then straightened her hat. "Miss Granger, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Hermione started momentarily. "Of course Professor." She hopped quickly up from the bench.

"What do you think she wants?" asked Ginny.

"Damned if I know," replied Ron. He and the others leaned out over the bench, trying to keep McGonagall and Hermione in their sights.

After a few moments, their attention was diverted when their DA coins grew warm and they began to pull them out their pockets.

"Hermione," Ron called out when she sat down next to him, "what's going on?"

"Listen," Hermione spoke with a hushed voice and they all huddled close to hear her. "There's going to be a meeting at noon today for select members of the DA in the antechamber."

"How can we have a DA meeting if Harry is in the infirmary?" asked Neville.

"Remember Neville, DA stands for _Dumbledore's Army_." She smiled like a Cheshire cat, "Dumbledore himself has called for this meeting."

~SH~

_Harry stood at the far end of the Lake._

_He heard the sound of splashing and turned to see Snape, standing naked in the water._

_The tall wizard ran a hand through his long black wet hair, brushing it away from his face as droplets of water ran lazily down his ivory skin. Then he walked toward the shore and Harry watched as every inch of Snape slowly emerged from the water and came into view._

_Intrigued, he walked toward the water's edge and waited as Snape came closer. _

_They finally stood face to face and Harry placed his hand lightly upon the pale chest. _

_Snape remained silent, but watched Harry's every movement with his smoky gaze._

_Harry slowly lowered his hand down the length of Snape's long torso, and just when he reached the black nest of hair… _

_~.~  
><em>

Harry gasped and woke with a start.

"Ah Mr. Potter, you're finally awake. How are you feeling?"

He looked up at the smiling face of Madame Pomfrey and felt disorientated and — embarrassed. "I … uh…"

"A bit foggy I see," she resumed waving her wand, "could have been much worse considering the location of your injury."

She stopped her administrations and tapped the amulet that lay upon his chest. "It was a good thing you were wearing this."

"I don't know," he rubbed his sore head. "I still got hurt."

"But not as badly as I would have suspected."

She put her wand away and sat down next to him. "Harry, all you have is a mild concussion, even though the injury is located right here." She touched his left temple.

The bone is very thin there, so the injury to your brain should have been far worse. That amulet definitely saved you."

"Wow," he whispered and picked up the amulet to rub his finger over the intricate carvings.

"Drink this; it will help with your headache."

Harry swallowed the potion.

"I have a nice warm cup of tea right here for you."

"But I need to get to my potions class."

The Mediwitch chuckled. "Your potions class has already finished; it's almost noon."

He didn't know if it was the concussion or the dream, but he felt totally dazed.

"You just lie there quietly and drink your tea. That potion should start to work shortly."

"Yes Ma'am."

She helped prop him up on several pillows and then headed for her office.

Harry pulled his legs up close and thought about his dream as he held onto his cup of tea as if it were a life-jacket.

~SH~

The small group of DA members fell silent when Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall walked into the Antechamber off the Great Hall.

Dumbledore had never addressed the DA directly, and the fact that he himself had called this meeting indicated the seriousness of its intent.

"I wish to thank you all for coming on such short notice."

The students remained silent and expectant.

"As you are well aware, there have been three separate incidences of attack upon Harry Potter this term."

The students all nodded in agreement.

"Despite the measures we have taken to insure his safety, we have obviously come up short."

"What can we do to help, Sir?" asked Hermione.

"There are three weeks remaining until the summer break. I wish to ask you, as members of the DA, to be Harry's body guards until this term ends."

They all began to chat amongst themselves.

"We really appreciate this opportunity to help Sir," offered Hermione.

"Yeah," added Ron. "We're sick and tired of seeing Harry get hurt."

"As am I, Mr. Weasley," responded Dumbledore.

"And I," added McGonagall.

"So, how do we go about doing this Sir?" asked Neville.

The Headmaster looked over to McGonagall, "Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall passed out parchments to the members in attendance.

"Most of you share classes with Harry," she spoke in her Scottish brogue. "I have taken the liberty of devising a schedule which would provide a minimum of two guards to be by his side throughout the day. Of course you are at liberty to modify this, but the goal is to have a minimum of two guards at all times."

"What about this summer, Sir?" asked Hermione.

"Aside from Harry, there will be only a handful of professors here this summer. Furthermore, he will be learning new skills over the summer that should help him to better protect himself next term."

The noise level in the room dropped as each student studied their individual parchment.

Dumbledore stood up from his chair. "So, may I depend upon you to carry out this task?"

They all stood and agreed to the task.

"I have one more request." He waited until they had quieted. "As you all know, Harry dislikes being the center of attention. So if you will, please try to carry out your duties without fanfare."

"You can count on us, Sir." assured Ron.

~SH~

The DA kept close tabs on Harry that week, escorting him to and from classes, down to meals then back up to the tower, in essence making sure that he was never alone.

They'd all noticed that Harry wasn't quite himself; he seemed continually preoccupied and slightly dazed and they chalked it up to the bump on his head.

Harry may have felt dazed, but it wasn't because of any bump on the head.

On Friday afternoon, Harry, Ron and Hermione hiked up to the seventh floor after their Charms class finished and had just reached the door past the Gargoyle when Harry turned to face them.

"Listen, you two don't have to wait out here for an hour. I'll be fine."

"We're staying right here, so save your breath."

Harry shook his head and sighed as his two friends moved over to the door.

"Are you coming?" asked Ron.

"After you," Harry replied in a sarcastic tone.

Ron knocked on the door.

"Come in Harry."

Ron shrugged uncomfortably but Hermione gave him a little shove. "Go on."

He opened the door and poked his head in.

"Why, if it isn't Ron Weasley." Helena walked over to greet him. "I haven't seen you since last summer."

"Hi, Healer Swanson."

"Please call me Helena. But where is Harry?"

"I'm out here," he called from the hallway and started to walk into the room, but Hermione stopped him.

"Helena," continued Ron, "I need to make certain that you're the only person in this room."

"Oh," she said with surprise. "Be my guest." She stood back and allowed Ron to check out the room.

"You guys are taking this too far," Harry whispered to Hermione.

"We are not," she hissed in return.

"Everything looks fine, you can come in Harry."

Harry walked in and glared at Ron as he walked out.

After the door closed, Harry leaned back against it, dropped his bag on the floor and closed his eyes. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Come sit down."

He pushed off from the door and plopped himself down in the chair.

"Quite a bit has happened to you since we met last Friday," she commented.

"Helena … you have no idea."

"Are you talking about the attack?"

"No, I'm not." Harry stood right back up and began to pace around the room. "And it's not all this stupid guarding me business either!"

The china tea service on the sideboard shattered.

"Harry calm down, right now," commanded Helena.

Harry cringed and he turned to look at her. "You're okay, right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"I'm fine."

He turned back to the tea service and waved his hand. "Reparo," then he walked back to the chair, sat down and took steadying breaths in an attempt to calm himself.

"Let's try focusing Harry," said Helena. "Pick one word to describe what you're feeling."

He hated it when she made him do this, but truth be told it did help him make sense of what he was feeling. "I guess it would be betrayal."

"Who betrayed you?"

"No, it's me. I'm the one doing the betraying."

"To whom?"

"To Anthony," Harry said and then crossed his arms tightly. "You see, there's this person. And I keep thinking about him," he paused and squirmed a bit, "in that way."

"And tell me why that makes you feel betrayal."

Harry stared at her in disbelief. "Because Anthony has no life! He's laying there like a vegetable and I should … I shouldn't …"

"You shouldn't what? Ever have feelings for someone else?"

Harry tensed and stared down at the carpet.

"You shouldn't ever fall in love again or be intimate with someone?"

Tears started to well in his eyes. "I feel like I'm betraying him."

Helena moved over and sat right next to Harry. "You've been informed as to his clinical condition."

"Yes," his acknowledgement was barely audible.

"So you know that he will never wake up, and there is a strong possibility that he will succumb to secondary complications."

"I know. So how can I love someone else when Anthony is going through all of that? It's not right."

Helena sat quietly for a moment, deciding how best to proceed. "What if the roles were reversed? What if it was you lying in that coma? How would you want Anthony to live the remainder of his life?"

"His mom said the same kind of thing to me last year."

"So? What would you want?"

"I'd want Anthony to be happy," his tears now rolled down his cheeks. "I'd want him to love again."

"This will take time," Helena consoled him, "and we'll continue to talk about it as you work through all of this."

"Okay," he sighed.

"So, is there someone …?"

"Not really, I just keep thinking about this certain person."

"Believe it or not, that's a healthy sign."

He started to contradict her statement, but Helena raised her hand. "Let me finish."

"Sorry."

"I know that part of you is feeling guilty, but your subconscious and your physical part are healing and moving on."

"It just doesn't seem right," he repeated softly.

"My best advice for you is to try and take this one day at a time. Don't try to analyze your feelings. Just let them happen."

He looked out the window and said softly, "I'll try."

~SH~


	19. Summer Surprises

**19. Summer Surprises**

"So when's the wedding?" Harry asked as he levitated another load of books to Channon.

"Next month. I wish you could come; if things were different …"

"I understand," Harry said quickly. "It's too risky." He looked around the nearly empty office. "Just send me a postcard from your honeymoon, will you?"

"You can count on it."

"Wow, Jamaica," Harry resumed levitating the last few books from off the top shelf. "I can't even imagine going somewhere like that."

"Neither can I, I can hardly wait."

"That's the last of them." Harry hopped off the table where he'd been sitting. "What's next?"

"How about the Dark Detectors."

"Sure." The teen walked over and started to wrap up the collection of delicate instruments in the special padded cloth bags. "Defense won't be the same without you, Channon."

"I wish I could stay and teach next year, but…"

"You have your job," Harry finished the sentence as he fiddled with one of the detectors. "I don't know what Unspeakables do, but it must be important."

Channon merely nodded. They both knew he wasn't allowed to discuss the details of his work.

"Do you know who'll be teaching Defense next year?" asked Harry.

"I believe Dumbledore is still trying to find a replacement."

Harry wrapped the last of the detectors and placed it in the box along with the others. "I guess that's it."

"Looks like."

Harry stood there, not knowing what to do. Channon was leaving first thing in the morning and they both knew that this was 'Good bye'.

Channon walked over to face Harry. "It was an honor to teach you this year. You're so gifted with magic and you learn so quickly."

"That's only because you're a good teacher."

"Thank you," Channon bowed slightly.

"I can't believe how much I learned this year," Harry continued. He looked anywhere but at Channon, trying to not let his emotions get the best of him.

Channon placed a hand on each one of Harry's shoulders. "Listen to me; I want you to know that I admire you, Harry. And it's not because you're The Chosen One or The Boy Who Lived, it's because of the kind of person you are and how you deal with others."

Harry looked down, embarrassed.

"I think of you not as a student … but as a friend."

"Now that you're not my teacher, could we be that?"

"What … friends?"

"Yeah, you know … write to each other and keep in touch."

"Harry, we already are friends, and you damn well better write to me, I'm counting on it."

They heard someone clear their voice and both men turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway.

"Harry, it's ten o'clock," she said softly.

"Okay." He turned back and looked at Channon.

"Come here you." Channon wrapped Harry in a big hug. "Take care of yourself," he whispered.

"I'll try," Harry said and felt tears prick his eyes. "Good bye Channon."

The two broke apart and Harry walked quickly out of the office.

Hermione gave Channon a little wave then turned and ran down the stairs after Harry.

~SH~

The carriages lined up in front of the castle the next morning and began to shuttle the students down to Hogsmeade Station. The air was filled with noise and raucous as all the suitcases and belongings were sorted and loaded.

"Bye Harry," called Dean and Seamus.

"Bye you guys," Harry called back. "Have a great summer."

"Bye Harry!"

Harry turned to see Ginny, Luna and Neville wave from a nearby carriage. "Bye you guys, have a great summer!"

Neville whispered something in Luna's ear and then ran over to Harry.

"Listen Harry, I just wanted to say…" he looked around awkwardly, "well, I know you have to stay here and all, but I hope it won't be too boring."

"Don't worry about me, I'll find something to do."

"I'll send you some postcards," offered Neville.

"From where? Where are you going?"

"Gran wants to travel this summer. I'm not sure where, she's doing all the planning and…"

"Neville!" called Luna, "hurry up, the carriage is leaving!"

"Guess I better go Harry, bye!" he called as he ran and jumped into the carriage.

"Well mate, I guess this is it," said Ron as he and Hermione walked over to join their friend.

"Only for one month. You're all coming for my birthday, remember?" returned Harry.

"I know," said Ron, "but it just seems like such a long time from now."

"Give me a hug," said Hermione.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and they hugged for a long while, then she kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear, "If you ever need anything, just owl me and I'll come."

"Thanks Mione. I'll be okay." He squeezed her then stepped away. "It sounds like Dumbledore and Snape have a lot planned for me this summer."

"Don't let them work you too hard, mate."

"All right now," Hagrid's voice boomed over the surrounding noise. "Time ter git a goin."

"Bye Ron, bye Mione."

"Bye Harry, take care," Hermione called back as they got into the last carriage.

"Here comes th' Headmast'r Harry, he'll be a takin yer back inter da castle."

"Right, Hagrid. Thanks for staying with me."

Dumbledore joined Harry and the two of them watched as Hagrid followed the last carriage down the road. A wave of sadness washed over Harry as the carriage turned the corner and disappeared out of view.

"I guess that's it," he said forlornly.

Dumbledore looked about and smiled broadly. "Well my boy, are you ready for your summer to begin?"

"I suppose so," Harry sighed.

"Splendid. Then follow me; I have a surprise for you."

The Headmaster started to walk briskly back to the castle.

"A surprise? For me?"

"Yes. I thought it might be nice," he turned to make sure that Harry had caught up with him, "for you to have a change of scenery this summer."

"But I thought I was staying here?"

"You're quite correct."

They entered the castle and crossed the entry hall.

"That is why I've arranged a suite of rooms for you to occupy over the next two months."

"A suite of rooms?" The teen asked incredulously.

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed as they started up the flight of stairs. "They're located here on the second floor and are used primarily for visiting dignitaries. I've had the elves bring your belongings down already."

They walked to the end of a short hallway. "Here we are."

Dumbledore stopped next to the full length portrait of a formidable looking witch standing in a woodland setting. She turned to face the stunned young man.

"Harry, I would like to introduce you to Diana Merrythought, Diana … this is Harry Potter."

"Hallo Ma'am."

"Well, hello Harry. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Harry, Diana taught here at Hogwarts the same time as I, but she taught Defense."

"She did?"

"I did indeed young man," commented the woman in the portrait.

"I asked Diana if she would guard your suite of rooms, and she agreed."

"Thank you, Sir" Harry said in earnest.

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "you must pick out a password."

"Oh." Harry looked around and bit his lip. "Um, how about … Skiving Snackboxes."

"Splendid choice. And you must remember to change your password daily."

"All right."

"I'll give you the honors," Dumbledore held out his hand and stepped back allowing Harry to move in closer to the portrait of Diana and offer the password.

"Skiving Snackboxes."

The portrait swung open and Harry stepped into the room but he stopped immediately, shocked at what greeted him.

The modest sized centrally located sitting room was painted in a light cream color with a fireplace on the far wall, banked by French doors that led out to a balcony.

"Your bedroom is here to the right."

Dumbledore had to squeeze in behind the stunned teen who still stared aghast at the beautiful sitting room.

"Harry?" Dumbledore called from the bedroom doorway.

"Sir?"

"The bedroom … would you like to see it?"

"Oh, yes Sir." Harry hurried over and a repeat performance of what had just happened in the sitting room played out again. "This is beautiful."

"I thought you might like it."

Harry ran his hand along the burgundy silk bedspread that covered a spacious four-poster bed.

"Your washroom is here off the bedroom. Now, let me show you the kitchen."

"There's a kitchen?" Harry asked as he followed the Headmaster across to the opposite side of the sitting room.

"Just a small one, in case you want to prepare a little something."

Harry looked around the small but well appointed kitchen.

"We will be having meals in the Great Hall, but you are free to eat here if you prefer. This is your vacation."

"Thanks Sir. But, who's we?"

"Myself, Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout."

"Oh," Harry said a little disappointed. "I thought Professor Snape was going to train me this summer."

"He will my boy, he will. He is taking his vacation and will be gone for three weeks.

Harry nodded.

"Now, there is much we need to discuss. I believe the elves left refreshments for us on the balcony."

Once again, Harry had to keep up with the Headmaster as he strode out of the kitchen, across the sitting room, and out the French doors.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes when he stepped out onto the balcony and walked to the railing. They were situated on the east side of the castle, giving Harry a completely different view from what he usually saw from Gryffindor Tower.

There was a small table and two chairs; the Headmaster had already taken a seat and was happily sipping from a tall glass of lemonade.

"Sir, thank you. This is all so beautiful."

"You're welcome my boy." Dumbledore set down his glass. "You had quite a difficult time of it this year. And even though you must stay here within the wards, I very much want you to have a relaxing and enjoyable vacation.

"I really appreciate that Sir. Thank you."

"Now Harry, a few matters. First, we still need to keep an eye on you, just to be on the safe side."

Harry sagged. "I understand."

"It will be different however, in that the house elves will be your guards."

"The house elves?"

"Yes. With the students gone, the elves will have quite a bit of time on their hands."

"So I have to wait and make sure one of them…"

"No, no my boy. You can come and go as you like. You won't even know they are watching you."

"Oh. Okay."

"Secondly, your training." Dumbledore pulled a thin book out from his pocket and handed it to Harry.

He looked at the title and read it out loud, "Intelligences and Their Applications." Harry got an expression on his face as though he'd just eaten a vomit flavored Bertie Botts Bean.

"Do not distress. I agree the text is rather dry, but thankfully you only need familiarize yourself with one specific area." He tapped the book. "I have marked the specific chapter on which we will be concentrating."

Harry noted the glowing blue page and turned to it. "Security Intelligence," he read then looked at Dumbledore. "Security Intelligence? What's that?"

"_That_ is what you will be learning this summer. You only need to familiarize yourself with the terms and principals involved. We will discuss how they apply to your situation. Then, when Severus returns, he will work with you in their practical application."

Harry turned to the table of contents and silently read all the chapter titles: Tactical Intelligence, Strategic Intelligence, Military Intelligence, Security Intelligence.

"Professor Snape knows all of this stuff?" he asked as he flipped through the many pages.

"He not only knows this stuff, as you call it, he uses this knowledge to survive."

"You mean his pretending to be a Death Eater?"

"Severus is a spy, Harry. What he does is very dangerous and there are few individuals who could successfully pull it off."

"Wow." Harry looked out toward the Forbidden Forest. "I guess I never thought about everything that went into being a spy."

They were silent for a moment.

"Sir, can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

Harry set the book on the table and looked at the old wizard. "Up until this year, I always thought Professor Snape was just a git." He cringed and looked over to the Headmaster. "Sorry Sir."

"That's all right Harry, please continue."

"But now I realize that he partly does it cause' of his …" Harry searched for the word.

"Façade, I believe is the word for which you are searching."

Harry nodded.

"Severus is a unique and complicated individual," Dumbledore said sincerely, "there's much more to him than that façade."

Harry smiled curiously and gave Dumbledore a sideways glance. "He has a funny side."

"Most people miss it."

"Yeah, at first I thought he was being mean but really it's just … what do you call it?"

"A dry sense of humor," Dumbledore filled in.

"Yeah, that's it." Harry chuckled.

"I am pleased that you and Severus have been able to put your differences behind you." Dumbledore took a deep breath. "And now, back to your lessons. I thought we might hold our training sessions in the evening, just after supper. That way you'll have your days free to do with as you chose."

"Okay Sir. That sounds good."

"We'll start tomorrow evening. Do you have any questions?"

"Is it all right if I go down to the pitch?"

"You may go wherever you wish, whenever you want provided you stay within the wards and stay away from the Forbidden Forest."

"Of course Sir."

"I am certain that with over one hundred elves keeping an eye on you, you will be quite safe."

"Is Dobby here this summer?"

Harry jumped as the little elf immediately appeared. "Harry Potter, Dobby is here!"

"See what I mean?" chuckled Dumbledore. "That will be all Dobby."

Dobby's ears sagged with disappoint as he disappeared.

The Headmaster stood to leave. "I will let you get settled in."

"Thanks again for everything Sir."

Dumbledore paused and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You are welcome my boy. Now, relax and enjoy the summer.

"Okay Sir."

~SH~

Harry spent the remainder of the morning getting to know his new lodgings. The couch was roomy and comfortable, the bed felt like a cloud, his bathroom had a large tub and shower and a window that looked out into the tops of some trees, and the elves had filled the icebox with all kinds of yummy foods.

He fixed himself a light lunch and ate it out on his balcony as he started to read the chapter on Security Intelligence. Dumbledore was right — it was dry reading.

After lunch, Harry grabbed his broom and flew from his balcony down to the pitch. He hadn't been there since the Quidditch final and it felt great to be able to fly around and not have to worry about two guards always having to be by his side.

The afternoon grew quite warm, so he took off his shirt, tucked it into his back pocket and flew over to the lake. When he got to its edge, he hovered in place for a minute as he kicked off his trainers, then he flew out over the lake and dragged his feet along the surface of the water.

"Woo hoo!" he called out. He felt so free. No worries, no guards, no homework — he was just having fun.

His escapades escalated to attempting entire loops over the water, and by the time he'd needed to return, he was drenched from head to toe and thoroughly happy.

As he headed back to the castle, he took his time to fly lazily around all of the turrets and towers, he even stopped momentarily outside the Headmaster's tower to tap on the window and wave 'Hello' to Dumbledore.

Then Harry flew down to Hagrid's hut, but Hagrid wasn't there, so he returned to his suite to clean up for dinner.

He took a long hot bath, and then crawled into bed, naked.

He could never do that in the dorm with all his dorm-mates present. The silk sheets felt cool and slippery.

"Dobby."

Of course Dobby instantly appeared. "Yes, Harry Potter?"

"I'm gonna make a rule."

Dobby's ears perked.

"I don't want you guys standing here in my bedroom. You can stand outside the door and make sure no one comes in, but when I'm in here I want some privacy. Okay?"

"Yes Harry Potter, Dobby will tell the others." He smiled then disappeared.

Harry slid back down between the sheets and smiled as he started to stroke himself.

He thought about how wonderful it had felt to drag his feet through the water. Then he closed his eyes and remembered how it felt when he'd fallen on top of Snape and felt that large cock and then he recalled every luscious detail of that dream he'd had of Snape walking out of the lake, naked.

It didn't take long for Harry to come. This was the first time since term started that he'd been able to wank off lying down. He usually had to do it in the shower and try not to make any noises.

He lay there, totally spent and blissfully happy. "I think this is going to be a great summer."

~SH~

Harry slept soundly that night and had a nice lie in the next morning. He spent part of the following day flying, but this time he brought his book with him to read down at the far end of the lake.

When he finished the chapter, he set the book aside and stared out across the water as words and phrases from the text swam in his thoughts. _Threat Environment, vulnerability can be reduced but never eliminated, opportunity based on timing and knowledge of the target…_

Dumbledore had explained the text as 'dry reading', but Harry could identify every word he'd read with almost every aspect of his life. And the more he thought about the text's message, the more it seemed to him that it had been written about him.

He had to get away, from these words and from the stifling feeling growing inside him.

Harry quickly peeled off his clothes, ran naked into the water and started to swim. He swam and he swam, leaving that book and all its unsettling words far behind him.

He swam far out into the lake and climbed up onto a boulder to rest. And as he sat on that rock and he stared down into the water, he recalled a conversation he hadn't even realized he'd heard.

It had taken place the night of his attempted kidnapping. He'd fallen asleep but awoke at the sound of familiar voices.

_Harry needs to take on more responsibility in his own protection_, Channon had said.

_But he hasn't reached majority yet_, returned Albus.

_He's old enough to understand and he's more than capable. Look what happened this afternoon. You can't follow his every move Albus. He has to learn how to watch out for himself,_ continued Channon.

Harry kicked at the water. "Channon is right," he said to himself. "I'm not a kid anymore and Dumbledore won't always be there to protect me. I have to learn this stuff and I'm not going to let it freak me out."

~SH~

Dumbledore looked over at Harry's empty plate. "Are you finished?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then let us adjourn for your first lesson."

"Good night Professors," Harry said as he and Dumbledore stood up to exit the Great Hall.

"Good night, Harry," returned both Professors Sprout and Flitwick.

Just outside the doors, Harry turned to head toward the staircase but Dumbledore gently took hold of his arm.

"It's such a pleasant evening; I thought we might conduct your lesson outside."

"Oh, that sounds great Sir."

They walked across the entry hall and out the front doors.

"Why don't we head towards our …" Dumbledore looked left and right, "oh, let's go to the right."

Harry chuckled at the Headmaster's quirkiness.

"Were you able to fit any reading into your day?"

"I finished the chapter, Sir."

"You did?" Dumbledore asked with surprise. "Splendid Harry, and what did you learn?"

"Well, I learned that when a risk exists," he turned to look at the Headmaster, "and I'm the risk, right?"

"That you are, my boy."

"Anyway, when a risk exists, that's when you need to use Security Intelligence."

"Correct. Please continue."

"And to have risk, you need …" Harry looked up at the peachy sky as he tried to remember the components, "vulnerability, impact and threat."

"And what are the influencing factors for threat?"

"Intent, opportunity, and capability."

"I'm impressed, Harry. I hope you didn't spend _all_ day studying."

"No Sir, not all day. I flew around some."

"Well good, remember — this is your vacation."

"Yes Sir."

"Let's see if we can apply these theories to your own situation." Dumbledore paused to smell a wisteria flower as they passed under a massive arbor which was completely engulfed by the vigorous vine.

"Now, if you will, think about the three attacks upon you this past year." Dumbledore gently placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Or would that be too distressing?"

"Oh no, Sir, I'm okay. But thanks for asking." Harry considered the attack on the train, the incident with the chocolate eggs, and the attack in the locker room.

"Very well. Then, with regards to threat—would you say the intent was the same in all three instances?"

Harry walked in silence as he compared the three attacks. "I don't think it was." He brushed the leaves of a large English Laurel hedge as they walked past it, "Goyle was mad about his father and just wanted to get back at me, but the other two … well, they were trying to kidnap me to take me to Voldemort."

"And what about opportunity?"

"That's just it Sir," Harry stopped and looked into those clear blue eyes. "They always seem to know where to find me."

Dumbledore placed a supportive arm behind Harry. "I'm afraid you've hit the nail on the proverbial head."

Harry didn't respond.

"You're attackers all had opportunity, one of the components of threat. With the many people coming and going from the castle, this component is the weak link in our efforts to protect you."

Harry released a long slow sigh. He'd felt fine at the beginning of the conversation, but talking about these attacks had left him feeling a bit anxious.

Harry's silence didn't go unnoticed.

"I think that's enough for our first lesson and may I say how extremely pleased I am with all that you've accomplished. And if you are willing, I have a little surprise planned."

Harry was grateful for the respite, "Another surprise?"

"Yes, it's just over here."

They walked a little further and then ascended a short stone staircase that led to a small courtyard.

Harry stopped in his tracks and stared at the beautifully set table. "But we just had dinner," was all he could manage to say.

"This isn't dinner Harry, this is dessert!"

Dumbledore steered the teen over to the small table set with creamy yellow linens and a crystal vase filled with apricot colored roses situated in the center. There was a decanter of port, a plate of aged Stilton cheese, freshly sliced Macintosh apples and two bowls of mixed berry cobbler.

"Have a seat, my boy."

"Thank you, Sir."

Dumbledore filled the two petite glasses with the port and placed one in front of Harry, who in turn stared at the small object, not knowing quite what to do.

"Are you sure this is okay, Sir?"

"Is what okay? asked Dumbledore as he cut off a chunk of cheese and placed it on a slice of apple.

"This is alcohol, right?"

"Oh Harry, you'll hurt its feelings if you call it simply 'alcohol'."

"Excuse me Sir; I don't follow."

"This," the Headmaster picked up the small crystal goblet and nodded for Harry to do the same, "is a very old Tawny Port." He leaned over and clinked his glass against Harry's.

"To your good health, Harry."

~SH~

A continent away, Severus Snape swam naked in his lap pool. He reached the far end, turned and headed back, enjoying the coolness of the water as it licked against his skin.

When he reached the other end, he stood up and looked slowly around the patio. He'd been doing this all day; looking around and wondering to himself what was out of place. Something was missing.

He sighed then climbed out of the pool and ascended the stone steps that led to his private terrace. There, beside the sunken soaking pool was a bottle of Primotivo, and beside it stood a crystal goblet already filled.

Severus was annoyed with Giano for assuming, but damn it if the house elf hadn't been correct.

He walked over, stepped down into the pool and sank languidly into the hot water. He reached for the goblet and sipped a mouthful of the rich red wine as he stared out across the valley below.

Severus loved coming back his villa. This was the home of his childhood, his beloved roses, and his state of the art laboratory. This place was where he belonged and even though he rarely spent time here, when he did return to the villa it was a respite were he could relax. It had always fulfilled his every want — until now.

Now, something was missing.

He was experiencing an emptiness he hadn't felt before and it seemed as though the dark shadows of the valley below echoed the dark chasm within him. That memory of love which he'd secretly guarded all these many months and which he'd hoped would be enough was now somehow lacking.

He looked around once again and finally surrendered to the fact that he did indeed know what was missing from his beautiful home and what was missing from his life.

It was love, and damn it if this wasn't all Harry's fault.

"Why did you have to do that to me?" he whispered in frustration. "Damn it Harry … why?"

~SH~


	20. Up to the Task

**12. 'Up to the Task'**

Bellatrix watched the dance of whitecaps whip their way over the endless gray sea and wished she could be anywhere but here.

She was looking out the window of her corner room in the Stonesay Inn, listening to the howl of the incessant wind as it buffeted not only the pane but the entire small town of Stonesay.

Stonesay, located in the Orkney Island chain, was the last place on earth she would have ever wanted to go. Not only because of the sheer boredom of the place, but it was too near _that_ place, and Azkaban was a place she planned never to visit again.

But her lord had requested this of her and for him — she would do anything. Even haul her sweet ass up to this frigid part of the world for weeks on end to gather the information needed to achieve his goal.

She turned away from the little window with its dreary vista and walked over to sit at the small vanity where she studied her reflection in the mirror, tilting her head this way and that, trying to get the dim light from the low northern sun to reflect off of her blond hair.

"I don't know if I like this color on me," she mumbled to herself.

She gave up on her hair, applied a bit more lipstick and then went back to the small window to see if he might be coming.

She was bored out of her mind and hated being in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do but fuck, sleep late and drink. The one windfall was that the guard she'd been seducing was well hung and he knew how to use his equipment.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Monique," the man whispered, "it's me. Can I come in?"

She started getting wet just from the sound of his voice. "Mais oui."

The door opened slowly and in slipped the tall, rugged guard. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and his eyes glowed with anticipation. He walked straight to her and wrapped her in his arms.

"Oh Monique," they began to kiss. "I missed you so much."

"Ah, mon amour," sighed Bella.

"Merlin Monique, say that again. I love it when you speak French."

Bellatrix happily obliged, knowing just what her verbal dance of words would inspire and by the time they'd finished fucking each other over and over, it was nearly midnight. At this time of the year and at this latitude, the sun still lingered above the horizon and cast an annoying ray of light when all should be dark.

She snuggled close to her lover and relished the feel of every delicious inch of skin as it pressed against hers.

"You look tired, Cherie." She stroked his hair. "It is difficult at work?"

"Oh baby, if you only knew."

"Qu'est-ce qui est mal?"

"I don't understand."

"How you say ... What is wrong?"

"Oh, you know I'm not supposed to talk about my work."

She slid her tongue along the contours of his ear. "Poor baby," she managed between strokes.

Bella's assignment had been to befriend, and then Imperious, as many guards as she could lay her hands, or other anatomy, on. But this had been such a dreary assignment, she'd decided to spice it up a bit and indulge herself.

"I suppose I could tell you," he wavered as she continued to use her tongue to cloud his senses.

"They're going to replace an entire contingent of us guards next month, and it's been hell trying to get everything ready for the switch."

"But why is that problem, mi amore?" She moved quickly down to his groin and began to lick his balls.

"Well, … there'll only be a handful of guards there for one day," he gasped when she scooped one of the globes into her mouth, "on the first of next month."

Her antics had his head spinning. "But you'll be in danger," she said and started in on his cock.

He growled and grabbed at the sheets. "No, don't worry. There will be five of us. It'll be okay."

She got him to come then rolled onto her back and spread her legs.

~SH~

Severus stood outside the doorway of his villa as he held onto the intercontinental Portkey; his travel bags sat next to him. He'd locked up his laboratory and said his goodbyes. All he needed to do now was activate the Portkey and be on his way to Hogwarts.

But one thing was stopping him.

He stared out across the grove of olive trees to the opposite end where the old pergola stood. This pergola, the entryway to Severus's rose garden, was the support structure for his favorite rose, the massive climber named Souvenir de Madame Leonet Vionet.

It was mid July and Madame was in her glory. Her multitude of flowers completely engulfed the pergola and created a floating sea of apricot and peach.

Now would be the perfect time to collect a sample of the rose and bring it to Harry. After all, he had promised he would do so that night after the overdose and attempted kidnapping. He could easily walk over, pick one of the flowers, shrink it and bring it back with him.

But to do that would go against his new resolve.

Severus had debated with himself, his entire time at the villa, whether or not he should allow Harry into his life. He'd survived quite well all these years on his own and had determined finally that he didn't want the complications.

His other dilemma was his reoccurring nightmare. Some aspects of the dream were always the same: the mist, his being awakened by the sound of screaming and then trying to find his mother. But now there was another consistency; Harry always seemed to turn up.

As Severus thought about his new resolve and his nightmare, he had somehow managed to cross the orchard and now found himself standing under the pergola, staring at the fattest, largest, most colorful of all Madame's flowers. He raised his hand and almost picked it, but then stopped. He lowered his hand but continued to stare at the rose.

"I will not be weak! And damn it — I will NOT think about Harry, anymore!"

He turned determinately and, leaving the rose behind, walked back up to the house and activated the Portkey.

~SH~

Careful where he stepped, lest he fall through one of the creaky floor boards, Lucius Malfoy walked methodically as he inspected the interior of a small shack located on the southern outskirts of Aberdeen. He wore his leather gloves and made certain not to touch anything.

The cabin was old and dank, and every square inch of the place was covered with a solid layer of musty dirt.

"How ever did you find this hovel?

"It's perfect, don't you think?" responded Gibbon. "Come, look outside."

The two Death Eaters stepped outside then Gibbon waited anxiously as Malfoy had a look around.

The shrubs and trees were so overgrown that it was impossible to see the building from the road.

"You've checked the surrounding area?"asked Malfoy.

"Of course I have. I wouldn't have sent for you if I didn't think it would work."

Lucius had another look around. The shack and its remote hidden location were exactly what they needed, but he had to be certain. His reputation, his very life and that of his family, was dependant on his success in accomplishing his part of this mission.

"I had better check for myself. Wait here," Lucius commanded and then Apparated away.

He Apparated all around the nearby area and saw nothing but dense growth. It was completely screened off from the distant road which led to the nearby town. Gibbon was right; this shack would serve their needs quite nicely.

"So, was I right? I am, aren't I? I told you so," Gibbon went on when Lucius returned.

"Yes, yes this will be fine. Clean it up, cast a ward around it and then start on your next assigned area. I'll report back to the Dark Lord and inform him of our progress."

~SH~

Albus scooped out a spoonful of his soft boiled egg as he casually turned the page of the Daily Prophet. He was enjoying a leisurely breakfast and half listening to the conversation taking place across the table when the sound of approaching footsteps caused him to look up from the paper.

"Well hello, Severus," he said.

"Snape old man," added Filius, "how was London?"

"Severus, you simply must come see the new crop of aconite." Pamona appeared ready to escort him to the greenhouses that very second.

"Pamona, Filius," Severus acknowledged them both but then turned and spoke in a hushed voice to Dumbledore, "Albus, may I speak with you privately?"

Not waiting for a response, Severus headed toward the antechamber.

Dumbledore excused himself from the table and then hurried to catch up.

"What's the matter, Severus?" He asked after he'd closed the door behind him.

"Nothing really, it's simply that …" he grimaced back in the direction of the Great Hall.

The old wizard chuckled. "Yes, Filius and Pamona can be a bit zealous."

"Actually, ..." he lifted his left forearm.

"The Dark Mark?" asked Albus.

"It's only an ache. The Dark Lord knew I was to return today; he is simply reminding me that my first priority is to see to his needs. He's probably running low on Restorative Potion."

"How long do you expect to be away?"

"Only one day." He brushed back his hair. "Is Harry ready? Has he read the text?"

"He has indeed."

"Good, because I don't wish to waste my time if he isn't prepared."

It was subtle, but Dumbledore noted a harshness in Severus' voice. "Is something the matter?"

"Not at all," he responded a bit too quickly.

"Are you having second thoughts about working with him?"

"I didn't say that," Severus answered defensively. "At any rate, I need to report to the Dark Lord. Will you please inform Harry to meet me outside the Room of Requirement at seven o'clock tomorrow evening?"

"Of course."

Severus made to leave but paused. "Were you able to make the special modifications?"

"Yes, the castle was quite receptive," Albus answered enthusiastically. "I must say, I'd love to participate if you could manage to fit me into one of your scenarios."

"I'm certain I can arrange something. Now if you'll excuse me, I really need to get going. Please give my regards to Pamona and Filius. I'll just slip out through the rose garden."

Severus turned and began walking toward the French doors.

"Are you going to see Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

Misinterpreting the Headmaster's question, Severus replied without breaking his stride, "No, I told you - I must be going."

~SH~

Once he stepped outside, Severus leaned back against the doors and released a sigh as he stared out over the rose garden and thought about how he already missed the quiet solitude of his villa.

He started to walk down the steps but froze at the sight that unveiled itself before him.

Harry stood up between two of the rows of rose bushes then raised his arms and stretched as he arched his back.

He'd taken off his shirt, no doubt because of the heat, and was wearing only a pair of faded, worn jeans. And to make matters worse, he had worked up a the thin layer of sweat that was now glistening upon his skin.

The sight took Severus' breath away. _He's gorgeous_, was his initial gut reaction and he could have hexed himself for thinking it.

Harry turned around and was startled when he saw his professor, standing at the top of the stairs.

"Sir! You're back!"

"Yes, I am," was all he could think to say.

Harry walked straight toward Snape with happiness written all over his face. "When did you get back?"

"What are you doing?"

Harry stopped. "What do you mean?"

Severus tried again. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh," Harry relaxed and smiled, "I was working on the roses."

"You?" Severus said in amazement

"Why are you surprised?" Harry responded in defense. "I told you I like roses," he said and then added before Snape could get a word in, "I always pruned my aunt's roses when I lived at the Dursleys'."

Harry looked back at the sea of color then added, "I missed it. So, I asked the Headmaster if I could take care of these roses during vacation."

Severus now cast a critical eye upon the rose bushes. They did seem to be thriving and were apparently pruned correctly. "Why aren't you using your wand?" he asked as he pointed to the odd contraption Harry was holding.

"Well, it's cause I learned to prune roses the Muggle way," he answered and looked down at the simple hand tool. "I tried using my wand but I didn't like the way it felt, so I went back to doing it the Muggle way."

Intrigued, Severus descended the remaining steps and came to a stand in front of the teen. "May I?" he gestured toward the shears and Harry handed them to him.

As Severus examined the odd Muggle device, the fact that he'd planned to keep his distance from Harry and that he would only interact with him with regards to curriculum seemed to slip from his mind.

"I've read about these 'pruning shears' as you call them," he said as he examined the shears. He'd never seen a pair before let alone held one. "But I can't imagine you'd prefer using these over a wand."

"You know why?"

Severus assumed the teen was about to delve into some practical application. "Why?"

"They're more …" He stared over to the roses, "relaxing."

Severus looked at Harry as though he'd sprouted a second head. "Pruning?"

"Pruning the Muggle way … Sir."

Severus now inspected the shears a little more closely.

"I could show you," Harry offered.

Severus stared into the green eyes and thought how he wouldn't like anything better than for Harry show him this strange Muggle skill. "Perhaps someday, I'll take you up on your offer, but as for now …"

He made to hand back the shears back but in doing so, their fingers touched. Neither one of them moved as they were both caught up in their own reaction to the unexpected encounter, but finally Severus pulled his hand away, "I must be going. I'll see you tomorrow night."

Severus misinterpreted the intensity in Harry's eyes for worry. "Don't start that again. You know that …"

"Yes Sir, I know," Harry interrupted Snape and the tone of his voice suggested a new maturity and understanding. "Defense comes from observations of activity," Harry quoted a line from the text book he'd been reading, and then he leveled a knowing look at his professor. "That is your job Sir, to observe the activity of Voldemort and the Death Eaters."

He then stepped back and he became quite serious. "We each have a role in this effort … and that one is yours."

"Correct, Mr. Potter."

"And mine is to kill him … someday."

Even though Severus expected Harry to have gained a more insightful and informed perspective as to his situation, to actually hear him speak in such a clinical manner was unexpected.

Severus nodded his approval and the two men now looked at each other in a new light, not just as professor and student, but as comrades in a common goal.

"Good luck to you, Sir," Harry offered.

"I'll see you tomorrow evening," Severus said and then stepped around Harry and crossed the terrace.

Severus' mind reeled from all that had just happened: his arousal at seeing Harry with his sweaty toned chest and back, that tantalizing stretch of exposed skin and the subtle wisp of dark hairs that peeked just over the top of his jeans, and then when their fingers had touched and the tingling sensation that had ensued.

When he'd arrived at Hogwarts that morning, Severus had been resolute in his determination to not allow his emotions, or Harry for that matter, disrupt his life. But after only a couple of hours at the school, or more specifically — after only a few minutes in the company of one Harry Potter, Severus realized that this was going to be one hell of a challenge.

~SH~


	21. Passages

**21. Passeges**

Harry turned a corner on the seventh floor and stopped at the sight of Snape, standing in front of the Room of Requirement and wearing Muggle clothes, really _nice_ Muggle clothes.

He quickened his pace. "Am I late, Sir?"

"Not at all; I simply came early to prepare the room for your practical."

As Harry approached, Severus became aware of that feeling he would experience sometimes when he was near him - the feeling he'd come to realize meant that the young man was nervous. "Are you nervous?"

"No, Sir," Harry lied, "I'm just anxious to finally start using everything I've learned this past month." _That and the fact that you're __looking so…_

Harry couldn't think of just one word to describe the way Snape looked this evening. It wouldn't be handsome, because Snape wasn't but he did look really good, in his own way. And his hair — it was like ..."

"Do I have your attention?" asked Snape.

"Oh, I'm sorry Sir, I was just thinking about…" _your hair_ "… all the material I read."

"Very well then, as I was saying, this evening we will begin to implement the tactics and strategies discussed in the text. I will attempt to present these skills in a manner that will enable you to build upon each one previously learned."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Tonight's practical involves ascertaining hazards and identifying possible foes when you enter a new environment. Your task is to choose an optimal strategic position and to take the appropriate actions that will safeguard yourself against attack."

Harry's eyes grew wide. "You mean like the mock battle exercise I had last semester?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "That 'mock battle' as you call it, was an example of an obvious attack and defense. In these scenarios your attacker and your countermeasures will not be as overt."

"Yes Sir."

"Your opponents will use only Stinging hexes. If you touch a Portkey, the result will again be a sting. These measures are being used only to make you aware of the fact that you were not successful in a particular encounter."

"Okay." Harry may have said 'okay' but now that he realized that there were going to be faux enemies, Portkeys and hexes awaiting him, he became nervous. Then he remembered who he was standing next to and that Snape was an expert.

"Sir, before we begin — if you were to give me any advice, what would it be?"

Harry's request took Severus off guard, but he did appreciate the fact that Harry had asked him. "I would advise you to remain dispassionate; try to operate objectively."

Harry nodded and looked at the closed door with trepidation.

Severus didn't plan to do this, it just sort of happened, but he reached over and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You'll be all right. Even if you make a mistake, you will not be harmed. You need only use defensive spells, but if you do feel the need to take offensive measures …"

"I'll just use a Stinging hex." Harry inhaled and blew it out quickly. "I'm ready, Sir."

Severus let go and turned to the door. "We need a place to practice."

~SH~

When the doors opened, Harry and Severus stepped into what appeared to be a tavern, complete with a bar and bartender, several rickety small wooden tables and a scattering of patrons all of whom looked up from their drinks when the two wizards entered the room.

Harry looked around in amazement. He had no idea the Room of Requirement could do something like this. It was as if they'd been transported to an entirely different place.

"Sir, how did you do this?"

Severus leaned over and whispered, "Magic."

Harry smirked at the quip and was about to press the matter, but Snape asked, "Instead of talking to me, what should you be doing at this very moment?"

Rebuffed, Harry turned back to scan the room and then pointed to the little table over on the left.

Snape nodded his approval.

The two wizards walked over, sat down at the small round table and positioned themselves so that they both faced the room.

"Did you two come in here for the hell of it, or are you going to order some drinks?" barked the bartender from behind the bar.

Harry turned to Snape. "Sir, who are these people? Are they real?"

The look he received told him he had strayed off target — again.

Harry cleared his throat and sat up straight. "Butterbeer," he called across the room.

"Scotch," ordered Snape. Then he asked softly, "What is your impression of the patrons seated at the other tables?"

"They all look a bit dodgy, all except for that little old woman over there."

Severus flicked a glance at the woman wearing a pink tattered tweed jacket, her badly dyed hair stuck out from under a hat that had seen better days.

"Why would you assume that? For all you know she could be a Death Eater under the guise of Pollyjuice Potion or a glamour."

Their drinks arrived and Harry nearly took hold of his mug of Butterbeer but stopped and instead reached into his pocket and pulled out the Sneakoscope Ron had given him back in third year. When he held it near the drink, it lit up and began to whirl around in circles.

Aghast, Harry looked to Snape who in turn stared disapprovingly at the juvenile Dark Detector. None the less, he nodded his approval at Harry's success, then incanted 'Evanesco'.

The Portkey disappeared.

"We'll have another," Snape called over to the bartender.

The 'safe' Butterbeer arrived and as the two men drank, Snape quizzed Harry on his assessment of the room, its patrons, their positioning, the means of entry and exit, and so on.

As they were finishing their drinks, the woman in the pink tweed jacket got up from her seat and started for the door.

Harry watched her every step, just waiting for her to pull a wand on him. When she placed her hand on the knob, Harry was hit in the midsection on his left side by a Stinging Hex.

He hissed from the pain but turned quickly in response and called out, "Expelliarmus."

Just as the bartender's wand flew into the air, Harry was hit again by another Stinging Hex, but this time it came from his right and slammed solidly into his shoulder.

He grimaced from the pain, turned back toward the door and wordlessly incanted Expelliarmus while at the same time, he threw up a Shield Charm around himself and Snape.

Harry kept his sights trained on the pink clad witch and the bartender as he waited for someone else to mount an attack, but no one did.

Severus called out, "That will be all for today."

At his words, the tavern disappeared as well as the bartender and patrons, everyone except the witch in the pink tweed jacket who after a few moments casually waved her hand in an arcing motion to remove the glamour, and there stood none other than Albus Dumbledore.

"You can drop the shield now Harry," Severus suggested calmly.

The teen stared dumbfounded at his Headmaster.

"Well done my boy, well done!" Dumbledore waited for Harry to drop his shield then joined them at the little table and proceeded to conjur two shot glasses and pull out a silver flask from a pocket in his rose colored robe.

Dumbledore poured a tiny bit of the amber liquid into one of the glasses and offered it to Harry. He then poured a glass for himself and freshened Severus' drink.

"So Severus, what do you think of Harry's performance this evening?" asked Dumbledore.

"I think we should ask him," Severus responded and they both turned to look at the still-shocked young wizard.

Harry tried to regroup and took a tiny sip of the Scotch, which only burned his throat when he swallowed, but at this point he didn't care. "I guess I failed."

"You did no such thing!" countered Dumbledore.

"But I got hit — twice!"

"And what did you learn from that?" asked Snape.

Harry thought a moment then drew in a sudden breath as he realized what it was Snape and Dumbledore had done.

"You two did that misdirection tactic thing … didn't you," he leveled accusingly.

"That we did," responded Dumbledore with a wink, "and I believe I made for a very effective distraction. Did you like the tweed jacket?"

Harry was speechless.

"You see," interjected Snape, "how these strategic theories can be put into play?"

"I do now, Sir … and I fell for it," he said and held up his hand as Dumbledore was about to placate him once again. "It's okay Sir, I learned something from this practical," then he turned to look at Snape, "and I won't fall for it again."

Snape leveled an appraising look at Harry and took a sip of his scotch.

~SH~

For the next couple of days, the two wizards went all around Hogwarts, visiting the places Harry would typically go during a school day: the Great Hall, the Quidditch Pitch and changing room, along the hallways and in the classrooms. They discussed the strategic advantages and disadvantages of each spot and how Harry could best position himself to ensure his safety.

The following practical, Snape and Harry were back in the Room of Requirement, only this time the room had transformed itself into a recreation of Knockturn Alley.

They stood in a shadowy side alley. It was dark and the heavy mist that filled the air covered the cobblestones and buildings with wet.

"For your practical tonight," Snape spoke softly, "you are to make your way down to the end of the alley."

"All right." Harry shivered from the cold and he could see his breath as it hit the chilly night air.

"You are to proceed alone. I will watch your progress from a vantage point two blocks away.

This announcement took Harry by surprise.

"Do you feel you ready for this, or would you prefer I stay by your side?" asked Snape coolly.

It was obvious from his tone that Snape was challenging him and even though the thought of a Knockturn Alley with awaiting foes behind every door was intimidating, there was no way Harry would ask for help now.

"No Sir. Thank you, but I want to try it on my own."

"Very well then, I will see you shortly." Snape partly opened the old wooden door he was standing in front of, "Good luck." Then he turned and slipped out of sight.

_Fuck!_ Harry thought then pressed himself flat against the wet stone wall and pulled out his wand. _Calm down, and for God's sake don't freak out and have a surge!_

He cast a Shield charm around himself then took a couple of deep breaths to chase off his nerves. _Okay now, all of this is meant to intimidate you, so don't let it._

He looked toward Knockturn Alley and tried to come up with a quick plan of action.

_Think_, he told himself. _Think of what you've learned._

After a few moments, he came up with a plan, pulled himself up straight, faced the alley then cast both Geminio and a Disillusionment charm upon himself.

The fake Harry walked out and turned onto Knockturn Alley as the real Harry blended into the stone of the walls and began to follow at a safe distance.

A few moments later, a dark clad figure appeared from a shadowed doorway and leveled a Stinging hex at the Harry image who continued on his way, completely unfazed by the assault.

Alternatively, the real Harry cast his own Stinging hex to the foe who then fell back into the doorway.

_It worked!_ Harry thought in relief.

He and his image continued down the alley with the attack scenario playing out every thirty feet or so.

As they neared the end of the second block, yet another attacker appeared and cast a hex upon the fake Harry but this time, when the real Harry countered, a different foe appeared and cast a number of Stinging hexes in the general vicinity where Harry's hex had originated.

The teen was hit on his cheek. The pain was excruciating and it caused him to lose his balance and fall over a pile of crates. He landed face first and heard a sharp _crack_ when his nose broke.

It was all Harry could do not to pass out from the compounded pain of both injuries. He struggled to his feet and tried as best he could to get to the end of the block, leaving the fake Harry to saunter along and be hit time and time again by Stinging hexes.

When he reached the end, Harry fell back against one of the buildings and slid down to sit upon the wet cobblestones. He ended the Geminio spell but kept the Disillusionment one in place.

After a few silent moments, Severus emerged from a dark alcove and stepped out into full view.

"Harry?" His call was greeted with silence. "Harry!" He nearly shouted, "Where are you?"

When Harry dropped the spell, Severus saw the young wizard, sitting on the ground holding his blood covered hand to his blood covered face.

"I take it you were the cause of the mishap with the pile of crates?"

Not daring to nod his head or try to speak, Harry instead raised his index finger in acknowledgement.

Severus walked over and knelt down. "Let me see."

Harry lowered his hand to reveal his now crooked, bloody nose.

"Shall I fix it, or would you prefer Madame Pomfrey?"

Harry's green eyes grew wide and he pointed directly to Snape.

"Hold still, this might sting." Severus aimed his wand, "Episkey."

"Owwwwwww!" Harry grimaced and tried to move away.

"Just a moment," Severus placed his hand gently upon Harry's chest and then cast, "Tergeo," to sop up all the blood.

"Remain still for a few moments," Severus said in a gentle tone.

"Harry closed his eyes and sighed. "I guess I failed."

Severus wasn't surprised at Harry's assessment. "I thought your choice of tactics was rather clever."

Surprised at the unexpected praise, Harry looked at Snape in disbelief. "How can you say that? Look where I wound up."

Severus held his hands slightly out to his sides. "Is this or is this not the end of the alley?"

The young wizard glanced around. "I suppose it is," he said in a quiet voice.

"You did succeed, Harry. Granted, a bit worse for the ware … but you did succeed."

Then Severus indulged a very rare smile, which put Harry at ease and he thought how nice Snape looked - when he smiled.

~SH~

All that week, Severus recreated places with which he was familiar, places that would provide unique situations for Harry to practice his new skills.

Harry was amazed to learn that Snape was so well traveled, and of all the places they visited that week, his favorite turned out to be one of Severus' favorites.

It was the Pontevecchio in Florence, Italy, and Severus had planned their next outing as part of a birthday gift for Harry.

~SH~

The sun had already begun to set when the doors opened and the two wizards walked out onto the ancient bridge. They began to cross the expanse, stopping to look in each shop to examine the unique and exotic wares being offered for sale. It was all so fascinating, Harry wished he could just relax and enjoy the adventure, but he knew he had to stay on guard.

It took almost two hours to cross the bridge, during which time they were attacked five times. Harry defended himself using only Shield charms and Expelliarmus. He was tired by the time they reached the other end yet pleased with his success, but not more so than Severus.

Over the course of the week, Severus had come to realize the effort Harry had put into learning the principles of Intelligence and Tactics. And with each day and hour they'd spent together, he had succumbed to the fact that: yes they did share common interests, yes he did admire Harry's tenacity and sincerity, and yes Harry had indeed grown into a beautiful man. But even more, Severus had finally accepted his growing feelings for this young wizard.

"You did very well."

"Thank you, Sir," Harry sighed.

"Would you care for some dinner?"

"What … here?"

"Yes, here."

"Truth is Sir, I'd love to relax and just enjoy this place. It's my favorite of all the places we've been."

Severus smiled. "Then let's go eat."

~SH~

They took an outside table at a little tratoria on the far end of the bridge. Severus ordered for both of them as Harry relaxed and enjoyed listening to his professor speak Italian.

"Have you spent a lot of time in Italy."

"When I was a child, yes."

"Here? In Florence?"

Severus got a faraway look, "A little further north, but still in Tuscany."

They relaxed and dined on pasta and red wine as they talked about their mutual interests; Harry wanted to know more about Severus' travels and he in turn wanted to hear Harry's impressions of growing up amongst Muggles.

Before they knew it, it was almost midnight. Soon Harry would turn seventeen and reach his majority.

Severus placed a small box on the table. "Happy Birthday," he said softly.

Harry looked with surprise from the small box then back to his professor.

Severus thought this might be his undoing, but he was determined to say it. "I'm pleased with all you've accomplished and, " He drew a fortifying breath, "I enjoyed our time together this past week."

Harry couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He was in awe of Snape – all the things he knew and the places he'd been. On top of that, he'd been having wild dreams about the man all summer, but now Snape goes and says _that_ right after showing Harry the most exciting week of his life.

"Sir, I don't know what to say."

Severus misinterpreted Harry's words. "I apologize. I shouldn't have …"

Harry reached across the table but didn't dare touch Snape. "No Sir, what I meant was — Thank you. Thank you for taking me to all these places and for teaching me about strategy."

The moment was still and quiet as Severus relaxed his guard. "It was my pleasure."

"And, Sir?"

Severus was certain that Harry was about to say he wasn't interested.

"I enjoyed spending time with you too; it's nice to be able to talk to someone about …" Harry looked down shyly, "about roses. You're the only one I can share that with."

Severus thought his heart may have skipped a beat. "Are you going to open your present?"

"Oh yeah," Harry smiled as he reached for the gift and opened it; inside he found an odd, silver thing. "What is it, Sir?"

"That, Harry, is a Dark Detector. A tasteful and discreet Dark Detector."

Harry chuckled. "I guess the Sneakoscope is a bit much."

"A bit," added Severus as he admired Harry's face basked in the light from the full moon. "There's something else I'd like to say."

"Yes, Sir?"

"It's more of a request actually."

Harry couldn't think what Snape might want or need from him. "What Sir? Did I offend you?"

"Not at all, on the contrary, I have come to regard you as more than just a student." Severus was certain that this had to be one of the most difficult undertakings of his life. "Last semester, I could not understand the ease between you and Professor Jackson."

"We were friends, we still are," Harry said easily.

Severus had wanted to say that he too thought of Harry as a friend, perhaps even more, but the words were elusive and all he could manage was, "I'd appreciate it if …" he stopped.

"Yes Sir?"

"I'd like it if you would call me by my first name," Severus looked down, feeling vulnerable.

Harry had seen this side of Snape only a couple times before, and each time it had been under extreme circumstances. But tonight Snape had knowingly reached out and placed himself in a vulnerable position. "All right … Severus." Harry liked the way it felt when he said the name. "It feels right."

"I suppose we should be getting back." Severus started to end the replication.

"No wait Sir! I mean, Severus. Could we please just walk back across the bridge _without_ any attacks? I'm not ready for this to end, not just yet. Besides, it's almost my birthday."

Severus smiled, "All right."

They got up and strolled back across the bridge. They walked right next to each other and several times their arms brushed together, which caused each man to stir, but neither one dared to make a definitive move.

When they came to the other end of the bridge, the clock in the Palazzo Vecchio began to chime. When it chimed twelve times Harry stopped and smiled.

"Happy Birthday, Harry." Severus had barely said the words when the smile on Harry's face vanished and was replaced with a curious expression.

"What is it?"

"I don't know. I feel …" Then Harry realized what was about to happen. "Oh no." His breaths started to come faster and faster. "Get back, Sir. Get back!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Severus!" Harry's curious expression grew into a look of terror. "Get away from me! It's happening again! Hurry!"

Severus realized what Harry was referring to and he backed away then called out, "That is all for today!"

The recreation ended and the two wizards were left standing in the middle of the large, now empty room.

Harry began to tremble and a rumbling noise could be heard as the entire castle started to shake.

Then all of a sudden, Harry's body stiffened and he arched backwards. Severus watched helplessly as Harry's entire body was engulfed in a blinding white light.

But instead of this energy shooting out in all directions, it seemed to envelop the young wizard.

Severus moved as close as he could and even though the episode lasted only seconds, to Severus it seemed like an eternity.

The rumbling slowly quieted and the light energy began to draw itself back inside of Harry until it was completely gone and all was quiet and still.

Severus approached cautiously. "Harry?"

Harry was still standing, his body was now relaxed and he opened his eyes.

"Can you hear me?" Severus reached out and tentatively touched Harry's shoulder.

He was terribly pale and he seemed to be in a daze, but he began to look around the room as if he were seeing everything for the first time.

Severus stepped even closer and now placed a hand on each shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.

Harry lifted his hand and gently cupped Severus' cheek. Then his fingertips drifted over and lingered momentarily upon Severus' lips until his hand floated downward and pressed up tightly against Severus' chest - right over his heart.

For Severus, it was as if time had stopped. Harry was touching him as no one ever had, and he thought he might collapse from the sheer gentleness of his touch.

At that very moment, Severus wanted nothing more than to embrace Harry, but then the emerald gaze rose to meet the ebony one, and it seemed to Severus that Harry was looking straight into his soul.

"Oh Sev…" Harry whispered as he lost consciousness and collapsed in Severus' arms.

~SH~


	22. Nowhere To Hide

**22.****Nowhere_To_Hide**

A low rumble woke Dumbledore from his slumber and he stared wide-eyed across his moonlit bedroom.

It took only seconds for him to place the signature of the tremor, but by the time he had thrown back his bedcovers the tremor had stopped.

The sudden stillness filled him with trepidation. "Phineas! Go quickly and ask Diana to check on Harry Potter!"

"Really Albus," whined the portrait, "it's the middle of the night. I'm not about to go …"

"Now! And report back to me immediately or you'll find yourself hanging in a dusty attic."

"Really!" Phineas huffed and strode heatedly out of his portrait.

Dumbledore slipped into his silky aborigine robe and made to exit his bedroom, but stopped at Phineas's return.

"She reports that he isn't in his suite."

"Does she have any idea where he might be?"

"Albus come here," called Dilys from down the hallway.

The old wizard hurried to the portrait. "Yes Dilys, what do you know?"

"Sir Cadagon reports that he saw young Harry enter the Room of Requirement earlier this evening with Severus, and that they did not come out."

"Thank you," Dumbledore whispered then hurried toward his office.

"Fawkes," he called out, "please take me to…" but before he could finish his sentence, the crimson bird flew to him. Albus grasped a hold of the outstretched talons and the two disappeared in a blaze of light.

~SH~

Fawkes deposited Dumbledore in the middle of the Room of Requirement right next to the two wizards. Harry had partially come around and was leaning up against Severus.

"What happened?" asked the old wizard as he knelt down beside them.

"What do you think happened?" spat Severus. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"Warn you about what?" Albus was shocked at Severus' verbal attack.

"Think old man," snarled Severus. "What is today?"

Albus gasped as realization dawned. "Harry came into his full power."

"Obviously."

"But why are you upset with me?" Dumbledore pressed.

"You must have known this would happen."

"Known _what _would happen!" Dumbledore countered but Severus had already returned his attention back to Harry.

"Can you stand?" His tone was markedly gentle. "We should have Poppy check you for injuries."

"But she isn't here," Dumbledore said apprehensively.

Severus closed his eyes and seethed. "What do you mean — 'she isn't here'."

"She left for her holiday, only yesterday," Dumbledore said and looked down at Harry. A second later he spurred to action. "Severus, take him to the infirmary," he ordered. "I will go find Poppy."

Severus was about to comply, but Harry grabbed at Severus' robes and pulled him close.

"No," he whispered. "Want … my rooms."

"But you're injured."

"M' not." He leaned his head against Severus' chest. "Please Sev … just need sleep."

Severus' entire demeanor softened in response to Harry's plea, and Albus was dismayed by the sudden intimacy between the two wizards.

"All right," Severus acquiesced.

"I think it best to avoid using any magic," Albus added cautiously, "until we find out with what we're dealing." He then placed his hand on Severus's shoulder, "I'll find Poppy and bring her to the suite.

~SH~

Severus was exhausted by the time he got Harry down to his suite and into to bed. Even more, he felt shaken to his core.

He lay down on the chaise and fell immediately asleep.

That was how Albus and Poppy found them an hour or so later. She examined both wizards and reported her findings to Albus.

"There's nothing I can do for Harry. He needs to rest and be patient until his condition improves. But it's imperative that he be protected during this phase." She regarded the young wizard asleep in his bed. "Once this settles, he'll need guidance in handling his new powers."

"Of course," Albus acknowledged. "And what of Severus?"

"Both his physical and magical readings are slightly off. A couple of days' rest and he should be fine."

She took hold of Dumbledore's arm. "Perhaps I should cancel my holiday."

"No, you said it yourself, there's nothing you can do."

He led her out of the bedroom. "I'll send Fawkes to you should anything arise."

~SH~

Albus was sitting on one of the couches in Harry's sitting room, enjoying a cup of Earl Grey, when a Boreal owl sailed in through the open French doors.

It carried a birthday present for the young wizard and dropped its load a top the pile of other presents and cards that had collected on the central coffee table.

"How long was I out?" asked Severus from the bedroom doorway as he watched the owl fly back out of the room.

"About six hours, my friend." Albus replied and noted the man's pallid complexion as he slumped onto the couch opposite his.

"Let me fix you a cup of tea," Albus offered. "You look as though you could use some."

He prepared a cup and handed it to Severus, then waited for him to take a few well paced sips before he started up the necessary conversation.

"Severus, please accept my apology. I had no idea Harry's transition would be so monumental."

"No Albus," countered Severus. "I …" He closed his eyes and paused a moment to rest his throbbing head against his outstretched hand. "It is I who needs to apologize to you." He sighed and added, "I was out of sorts."

"And with good reason, my friend."

Severus gazed out from under his fingertip canopy. "You found Poppy?"

Dumbledore nodded. "She came and examined both of you." He regarded the younger man before him with compassion, "Harry wasn't the only one compromised by last night's events."

"What are you saying?"

"Both your physical and magical levels were affected."

Severus stiffened. "In what way?"

"Apparently being so close to Harry during his transition … well, it had a draining affect on you. But Poppy states that your condition is only temporary."

Albus looked over his rimmed glasses and added sternly, "You need to rest and abstain from using magic for a few days."

Severus' mind began to swirl. _No magic? For Days?_ Dates, commitments, his duties - they all started to flash through his unfocused haze. But then it dawned on him that he hadn't even yet considered Harry.

"What about Harry? Is he all right?"

"Relatively speaking, yes. According to Poppy's findings," Albus paused as he was still in awe at what she'd discovered, "Harry's magical powers have nearly doubled."

The ebony eyes grew wide. "Doubled," Severus whispered.

"Yes … yet even so, his condition at present is precarious."

Severus sat forward and placed his teacup upon the table; it was only then that he noticed the pile of birthday gifts and cards. "What do you mean?"

"Poppy believes that the surge caused a reactionary effect. It's as though he'd been burned by his own magic." Dumbledore sighed. "For all his new-found powers, Harry must not be exposed to any magic, not until he has recovered." He grew quite serious and then added, "Any exposure could prove fatal."

Severus sat in stunned silence.

"Thankfully we have one month before the start of term. The quiet of the castle and scarcity of inhabitants should work well to both of your needs. "

Albus moved to set down his empty cup on the table but then nearly dropped it in his sudden attempt to snatch up one of the postcards from the pile of birthday greetings.

"Severus, did you see this?"

"See what?"

The old wizard inspected the photo on the front and then flipped the postcard over to read the subject location. "Ireland!" he said in amazement, "I don't believe it."

"Believe what?"

"Look at this!" Albus said excitedly and handed the postcard to Severus.

"Dear Merlin," Severus whispered upon seeing the photo. He also turned the card over to read the location address.

"I am correct … aren't I?" asked Albus.

Severus nodded. "We must go at once and inspect the area."

"Yes, we must go and investigate … but not you, my friend."

"But how else …"

"Severus," Albus interrupted, "all of us in The Order have viewed your memory in the pensive."

Severus tried to think of an argument that would allow him to participate.

"You must stay here and watch over Harry while I am gone to investigate this new development," Dumbledore continued. "You know as well as I that Harry's welfare is paramount to anything else."

Severus already felt lightheaded from just this momentary excitement. He leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes; he immediately realized that his was a bad idea as the room started to spin, which caused him to feel queasy.

"Please Severus, just rest. I will have the elves bring the two of you some food ..." Dumbledore paused mid-sentence as he remembered the need to isolate Harry from any magical activity. "They won't be able to enter the rooms," he thought out loud. "They'll have to leave the food outside the door; you can get it from there."

"What are you talking about?"

"Harry must not be exposed to any magical activity!" Dumbledore reiterated. "Of this you must be certain!"

Albus turned and looked worriedly toward Harry's bedroom. "Perhaps I should have asked Poppy to stay."

"Calm down, old man. We'll be fine." Severus placated. "But I'll need some medicinal teas from my laboratory before you leave." He sighed, "They should help."

~SH~

Harry slowly became aware that he was ensconced within the cool silky sheets of his bed.

Something wasn't quite right, but he couldn't place what was amiss. He was incredibly tired and his entire body felt heavy, as if he'd hardly be able to move a single limb if he had wanted to, which he didn't.

All Harry wanted to do was to go back to sleep but he heard an odd sound and he struggled to open his eyes.

Something was sitting on his nightstand. He reached for it and held it close to his face. It was a card with words printed large enough so that he could see them without his glasses: CAST NO SPELLS. CALL IF YOU NEED HELP, SEVERUS

_What the hell? _

He then heard that sound again and decided to go and investigate.

That, however, was easier thought than done, as Harry could barely get himself out of bed. It was all he could do to to sneak over to the doorway and not fall flat on his face in the process. What greeted him when he peered around the doorway caused him to gasp in surprise.

There was Severus lying on one of the couches with a throw over him — reading Harry's cookbook.

"Sev!"

"Harry, stay there. I'll come and help you."

"I can make it … I think."

Albeit not too gracefully, Harry managed to get to the nearest couch before Severus could get up from the other one.

Harry was wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms and, even though the day was warm, he felt chilled. He raised his hand to summon his sweater lying on the back of the desk chair. Severus immediately recognized the motion.

"Stop! Do NOT cast any spells!"

"Why?"

"What were you about to summon?"

"My sweater, over there."

Severus fetched the sweater and as he watched the teen pull on the garment, Severus wondered, _How in the world am I going to explain all of this to him?_

A feeling of being watched pulled Severus from his preoccupation and he saw emerald eyes that were for too knowing — looking straight at him.

Harry reached out his hand. "Sev," he implored.

The quality of Harry's gaze and the tone of his voice were dangerously sincere, and far too honest for Severus to face just yet, so he changed the subject.

"I need to inform you of your current situation," Severus responded clinically.

Harry got the point and withdrew his hand. "All right," he said disappointed. "So, why no spells?"

Severus took a big breath and proceeded to explain to Harry everything that had happened: his coming into his full power, his current health status and the fact that he couldn't perform or be exposed to any magic for the next week or so. Severus then reported on his own current health issues and that he'd be keeping an eye on Harry for the next week, and topping off all of this was the fact that a postcard sent from Neville Longbottom showed the same township Severus had seen from the Dark Lord's bedroom window, all those many months ago, and that Dumbledore and The Order were on their way to investigate.

Harry was speechless.

"There's one more thing."

The teen tried to ask 'what', but couldn't seem to find his voice.

"You're magical power — it has doubled in strength. As soon as your condition of hypersensitivity has healed, we'll need to work on modifying your spell casting to accommodate this new level."

Harry was overwhelmed. He again felt chilled again and despite the sweater, he started to shake. "I don't feel so good."

Severus placed another throw over the teen and offered him some medicinal tea. He then prepared a piece of cloth with an essential oil and laid it next to Harry's cheek.

"What's that?"

"Oil of Mandarin, it will help to calm you," Severus answered and tucked the throw more closely around Harry's shoulders. "Just try to rest," he consoled and brushed back the raven hair. "We'll talk later."

He waited until Harry had dozed off and then retreated to the balcony for some much needed solitude.

Severus stared at the Forbidden Forest and thought of the events from the previous night: Harry's touch and what it had evoked, his emerald gaze and how it had peered into his soul and learned his dark secrets.

This exposure, this vulnerability – it was nearly impossible for Severus to bear. He wanted to leave, to go hide in the dungeons but he couldn't, he had to stay here in these very same rooms with the person from whom he wanted to escape.

~SH~


	23. No Holds Barred

**2****3****. ****No Holds Barred**

Harry awoke in the darkened sitting room and wondered how it was that he'd ended up out here on the couch. But then he saw the CAST NO SPELLS card on the coffee table and remembered.

"Shit," he said softly then grabbed his spectacles, which were sitting next to the card, and slumped back against the couch.

Harry stared blankly at nothing specific and slowly recalled all that he'd been told earlier: that his magic had now doubled in strength but that he was injured or sick or something, and that he couldn't use his magic for … how long? He couldn't remember.

Then he absently took hold of the amulet with the intent to slide it back and forth along its chain, a habit he'd picked up over the months he'd worn it, but something was wrong; the amulet didn't feel right.

He held it in front of him and gasped when he saw that the amulet was broken.

"No," he whispered.

He fingered the remaining fragment back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. _It must have broken when that thing happened to me. _

'That thing' had been the culmination of his full magic, and he remembered how his perception about everything around him had suddenly changed.

He was now able to see the auras, as Channon called them, of things and objects, how they interacted with those of other objects and how his magic fit into all of this. It was all so obvious now.

Then Harry recalled clearly what had happened when he looked into Severus' eyes and saw all that he was: his memories, his wounds and sadness, his confusion and intellect, the feelings he kept buried - all these things had presented themselves to Harry in only a matter of seconds.

The overwhelming experience had come on the heels of the culmination of his full magical power. It had all happened at once: the auras, his magic, Severus ...

That was all he could remember until now, sitting on his couch, holding his broken amulet, and God he had to pee.

Harry struggled to stand and the room immediately began to spin.

He bent over and grabbed hold of the mantle, until the swaying stopped. Then he tried again, but this time — slowly.

When he walked into his bedroom, he saw Sev asleep on the chaise; he approached quietly and stared down at the sleeping man.

He was on his side, his face was relaxed and that enticing long black hair of his was draped languidly across the pillow. The light sheet that covered him had slipped down a bit and had exposed his right arm and sinewy back.

Harry saw the scars and knew exactly how Sev had received them, just as he knew everything about Severus, now.

This intimacy was extremely alluring, even more so because Harry now knew that Severus was also attracted to him.

What a surprise.

Harry proceeded quietly to the loo and when he'd finished, he continued to hold himself and remembered the feeling of Sev's cock pressed up against him that night when they'd been practicing the Hex Reversing Hex, and he wondered if …

But a sound from the bedroom disrupted his thoughts.

Though nearly impossible to believe, the sound he heard was of Severus whimpering.

The images of a gray mist, of being frightened and of someone screaming, sprang to Harry's forethought.

Then, Severus called out and Harry rushed into the bedroom.

Severus was sitting bolt upright in the bed, staring about the room. He was obviously disoriented as to where he was, so Harry went over to him and knelt tentatively beside the bed.

"It's all right Sev. It was only a dream."

For Severus, to be caught-out in such a weak moment was unacceptable, and he defended himself in the way he'd come to rely upon.

"I am not in need of a nurse maid, Mr. Potter. Get out, this instant!"

Even though the words stung, Harry knew exactly what Sev was doing — and he wasn't going to take it.

"Listen!" Harry snapped back, "I know you just had that nightmare, but you know what? Fuck you! If anyone has a right to be in a bad mood, it's me. I feel like shit and God damn it, this is _my_ bedroom!"

They stared daggers at each other for a moment, then Harry turned abruptly and marched out of the room. He staggered across the sitting room then out to the balcony where he promptly leaned against the stone wall and slid to the floor.

Everything begun to spin terribly and he thought he might sick-up. "God, I feel sick." He layed all the way down, tucked his knees to his chest and hoped this horrible feeling would soon pass.

Back in the bedroom, Severus was still sitting in the bed, utterly livid over what had just happened.

"How dare he," Severus seethed.

Then with a stern determination, he threw back the sheet, stood up and stormed out to the sitting room.

But Harry wasn't there.

So Severus marched into the kitchen, but Harry wasn't there either.

_The coward_, Severus thought heatedly, then he turned back and looked toward the French doors.

The fact that Harry knew about the nightmare confirmed Severus' suspicion that somehow Harry had looked into his soul and now knew everything about him.

Severus stalked toward the French doors, ready to let loose a verbal tirade upon the imp. At this point he didn't give a fuck how powerful Harry was; he knew too much, and Severus interpreted that intimacy as a threat.

He stepped out onto the balcony ready for the confrontation, but all that greeted him was the sight of Harry, shaking and curled up in a pool of bile on the stone floor.

The sight snapped Severus from his self-absorbed campaign and he rushed to Harry's side.

"Let me help you."

"Get … away," it was hard for Harry to speak, he was shaking so badly.

"Please Harry, I apologize. I was caught off guard."

"I don't … give a fuck." Harry had the dry heaves now and his empty stomach wretched futilely.

Severus immediately realized that Harry hadn't eaten since the dinner they shared the previous night and he could have cursed himself for not getting Harry to eat a little bit that day.

Severus wanted to cast a Warming charm, but he couldn't. He wanted to call the elves for help, but he couldn't. He couldn't use any magic near Harry and he looked to the sky and growled in frustration.

In response, Harry tried to pull away, which he couldn't. He was pinned between Severus and the wall.

"Leave … me … alone." Harry's pathetic plea stilled Severus' anger.

He knew he'd caused this horrid situation and was determined to get a grip on himself before he made matters worse.

"Please," Severus implored and brushed the damp fringe away from Harry's clammy brow. "You don't have to forgive me, but please let me help you."

Harry shot Severus an angry glare. "Okay but … don't pull that shit on me ... again."

Severus knew what Harry's demand referred to — no more tirades, no more evil Death Eater personas. Save that 'shit,' as he'd called it, for the students and the other Death Eaters.

It was all he could do to get Harry over to the bedroom and into bed.

After a bowl of broth and a cup of peppermint tea, Harry lay resting comfortably. And even though the elves had offered, Severus had insisted on cleaning up Harry, himself.

~SH~

The first of August dawned bright and sunny, and hot.

Everyone was upset that Dumbledore had cancelled Harry's birthday celebration, and they were now on a campaign to reschedule the event.

Harry was under strict orders, via a note from Madame Pomfrey to STAY IN BED, for at least two days. So he spent this one opening his gifts and cards, and responding to the stack of letters that had arrived.

Without the use of his magic, Harry had to resort to using the wax from a burning candle to seal each of his letters.

Hedwig had watched all this activity with great interest and hooted when he collected the letters and handed them to her for delivery.

But the snowy owl backed up in disdain at the wax smudged pile of parchment.

"Look, I know they're messy, but it's the best I can do right now."

She looked down at the smutched cargo and hooted her disapproval.

"I can't use any magic, you know that. Please Hedwig," he implored, "please deliver these for me."

Hedwig loved Harry and would do anything for him, even deliver this embarrassing pile of correspondence. So she jumped over, gave him a peck of disapproval, then clasped the bundle in her talons and flew out of the bedroom.

~SH~

A white blur shooting past him caught Severus's attention and he looked up to see Hedwig fly off with a bundle of letters in her grasp.

He sighed, glanced over to the open French doors and debated whether or not to go in and talk to Harry.

He'd been avoiding Harry all day, preoccupying himself with preparing lesson plans and organizing his research notes regarding the new visum perfisio potion he was developing.

Avoidance was not a concept Severus associated with himself, but neither was having heart-to-heart talks.

He accepted the inevitable, tossed down his quill then made his way to the bedroom.

"We need to talk," he said from the doorway.

Harry glanced up from the copy of Quidditch Weekly that Ron had sent him, "I know." He set down the magazine and felt his trepidation grow as Severus placed a chair next to the bed and took a seat.

Severus rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and laced his fingers together in front of him, wondering where to begin, but Harry beat him to it.

"It broke," he said simply and lifted up the amulet.

"Yes, I saw that."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I," Severus said with regret. "They're very rare. I know of no others."

Harry sank his head into the pillow as he fingered the broken amulet.

A pregnant silence ensued, and Severus gird himself to confront the inevitable.

"How is it you know about my nightmare?"

Harry swallowed uncomfortably, "You mean … you don't know?"

"I have a theory, but I'm uncertain."

Harry crossed his arms over his bare chest. "I'm not sure how to describe it," he said and shrugged his shoulders, "but the other night, right after my …"

"Transition."

"Yeah, transition. Well, when I looked at you, I could see … everything."

"What do you mean 'everything'?"

"Everything about," Harry chanced a glance at Severus but immediately looked back down toward the sheet, "everything about you."

This statement confirmed Severus' worst fear. He raised his chin and turned away. "I don't believe you."

Harry remained silent.

Severus changed tactics and leveled a hard glare at Harry. "Prove it."

Harry pushed back into his pillow at the bitter words. "Please don't ask that."

"I demand you prove yourself!"

Harry closed his eyes and said softly, "I know how you got those scars."

Severus stiffened. "You can't."

Harry opened his eyes and they were full of sadness for Sev, "You're father did that to you when you were a little boy." He then looked off as he recalled the memory in his mind's eye, "It was winter time and you were cold. He came into your room and …"

Severus stood up so suddenly that the chair he'd been sitting in fell backwards onto the floor.

"This is intolerable!" he shouted.

"Why?" Harry leveled back. "Because we're on even ground now?"

"How dare you," Severus hissed.

"It was the same for me, and you know it, goddamnit!" Harry continued and he got up on his knees, but he immediately felt lightheaded so he sat back down and continued, "All those Occlumency lessons, you saw how I lived! And you've known all my secrets now for years! Why is this different? I'll tell you why…"

Harry stopped his retort as Severus sagged uncharacteristically and took hold of the vanity.

"How much do you know, Harry?"

Even though the question was vague, Harry knew exactly what Sev was asking.

He didn't dare try to get up again, so he scooted to the foot of the bed and reached out toward Severus. "I know how you feel."

Severus stepped toward the door, away from Harry's outstretched hand, and leaned against the door jamb.

"I feel the same about you, Sev."

"Don't make it worse by lying, Harry. If you did, don't you think I would know?"

"You mean from the Occlumency lessons?"

"Of course that's what I mean."

"But that was so long ago. Things have changed … I've changed."

The last time Harry had had an Occlumency lesson, he was seeing Anthony and was completely in love and he thought of Severus as Snape. But things were so different now, only Severus didn't know it.

Severus pulled himself up and, determined to put on a brave front, turned to face Harry.

"Listen to me," he snarled, "I don't need your pity, and I don't need your lies."

"I'm not lying! If you don't believe me, then use Legilimens," he implored. "You'll know what I'm saying is the truth."

Severus wanted to turn away, he wanted to leave the room and get away from all this — honesty.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't turn away, any more than could he look away. And it didn't matter that he could very easily drown in those pools of green, the situation was moot.

"Harry, it doesn't matter how you feel about me and it doesn't matter how I feel about you." Severus shook his head and the light danced in flecks of blue upon black hair, "It would never work out."

"Why not?"

"I'm much older than you."

"I've reached majority."

"I'm your teacher."

"Only for one more year."

"Harry," his voice was more pleading now.

They looked into each other's eyes for a long time.

Harry drank in the sable gaze as Severus revealed his gentle side, something he never allowed anyone else to see.

For Severus, this was the first time in his life that he'd ever gazed upon someone in this way, and he didn't believe that it could be real.

How Harry managed it, he didn't know, but he crossed over to where Severus stood, raised his hand and gently touched Severus's cheek. Then he ghosted his fingers over to the slightly too thin lips and just as he had done the other night in the Room of Requirement, Harry drifted his hand down and he pressed it flat against Severus's heart.

Severus drew in a breath and closed his eyes. It was as if Harry's touch penetrated to his very core. But no sooner did Severus revel in these feelings, than did he suddenly pull Harry's hand away and sat him back down on the bed.

"Stop this, Harry. It's not real."

"How can you say that?"

"This is a teenage infatuation, nothing more."

"That's not true," Harry pleaded.

"We must forget this ever occurred. Do you understand?" Severus was adamant. "This never happened!"

Then he abruptly let go and stormed out of the bedroom, leaving Harry shocked and sitting isolated on his bed. He dropped to the sheets in despair, for he understood exactly why Severus had responded the way he did; because Severus could never believe that anyone, especially Harry, would love him that way.

Harry grasped the broken amulet and held it to his heart. "Oh Sev."

~SH~


	24. Wands and Roses

**24. Wands and Roses**

A large, formidable mansion sat isolated atop one of the northern foothills that bordered the Glenballyeamon in Ireland.

Around its perimeter circled a delicate silver instrument, methodically taking and recording measurements of the edifice.

From their vantage spot aside a nearby knoll, hidden in a copse of birch trees, Remus and Tonks anxiously watched the progress of the small sphere as it executed its precise passes.

"How much longer is that thing gonna take?" she asked impatiently.

"That depends on the complexity of those wards," Remus whispered back as he kept his keen eyes trained on the far corner of the massive building, waiting for the small object to appear back into view.

"I can't believe there're no proximity detectors."

"I wouldn't speak too soon, for all we know…" Remus stopped mid-sentence, "Wait a minute — here it comes!"

"Finally," she said and parted a couple of branches to get a better look. "Come on baby, hurry up."

Flashes of wand fire began to erupt suddenly from ground level.

"Damn it!" Remus turned and grabbed Tonk's shoulder. "You wait here for the permetiorscope while I draw their fire."

"Remus No!" Tonks implored. "It's too dangerous!"

"Give me a signal as soon as you've Port-keyed the scope back to Dumbledore, then Apparate to the Inn. I'll join you there."

He was off in a flash and Tonks turned back to watch the round orb float towards her at a blasé pace, far too slowly, considering that any moment one of those Death Eaters might blast the contraption out of existence.

An intense volley of wand fire flashed off to her left and Tonks heard someone cry out in pain. Moments later, the dawdling device finally reached the thicket of trees.

She shoved it unceremoniously into a smooth suede pouch then into the awaiting shoebox Portkey and tapped it with her wand. As soon as it disappeared, she cast her Patronus in the direction of the fighting, and then Apparated back to the Inn.

~SH~

"Doubled?" The word echoed around the table and was accompanied by wide eyes and open mouths.

"Yes, doubled," Dumbledore confirmed. "But I assure you …"

"Should the boy even be allowed to remain a student at this institution?" queried Solomon Priestly, the new Defense instructor. He had arrived at Hogwarts only two days previous and his stern dispassionate attitude had quickly evoked a chilly reception from the other professors.

At this comment, Severus, who'd sat poker faced throughout the seemingly unending staff meeting, slid a hard glare toward the unwelcome instructor.

"As I was about to say Solomon," Albus determinately kept his voice light, "Filius, Minerva and I have worked diligently with Harry over the past two weeks. I can assure you, he is quite capable in gauging the strength of his spell casting. He's actually been quite amazing."

"How so, Albus?" Arora Sinistra asked, genuinely curious to understand Harry's new-found ability.

"Yes, do enlighten us," Professor Priestly added with sarcasm ringing in his voice.

Dumbledore went on to explain that since Harry's transition into his full power, his awareness of the interaction between objects and magic exceeded explanation or even comprehension.

Even that wasn't enough for the dubious newcomer. "Are you referring to _all_ areas of magic?"

Severus seethed.

"Yes Solomon," chimed in Minerva. "I've taught Transfiguration to Harry for six years. It had always been a struggle for him but now he excels at it!"

"It's the same thing with Charms!" Filius added enthusiastically." Harry's a natural. Well, at least now he is."

"And of course, in Offensive and Defensive magic, which has always been his forte." Dumbledore's tone of voice was finite, bringing a close to this line of conversation. He then added, "And while we are on the subject of Harry - In light of all he has accomplished this past year and indeed, his entire time here at Hogwarts, I would like to nominate him for the position of Head Boy."

Albus' nomination caught Severus off-guard and his heart stirred unexpectedly. He quickly reached for his glass of water and took a sip in an attempt to quell the annoying emotion.

"Oh Albus, that's a wonderful idea!" Minerva's response echoed around the table as most of the attending professors agreed.

"Then, may I see a show of hands? All those in favor?"

Everyone raised their hand, all but one.

~SH~

"You were very quiet during the meeting, Severus." Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Floo as the two wizards stepped into his office.

"Perhaps."

"Cup of tea?" offered Albus, but Severus was already en route for the side table that supported the decanter of Scotch. "On second thought," said the old wizard, "a glass of Scotch sounds perfect."

Severus poured two and joined Albus in the window encased alcove. He remained silent as he stared at the sunset on the distant horizon.

Albus waited. Severus was preoccupied and had been for days. The mere fact that he had even agreed to come to Albus' office meant that perhaps he was ready to talk.

Severus toyed with his glass and said softly, "That was good of you to nominate Harry."

"I am very proud of him. He has worked hard this summer and put forth so much effort, despite everything…" Albus shook his head and added, "I wish there was more I could do for him."

His words were greeted with silence; so Albus decided to take matters into his own hands. "What is wrong, Severus? What happened between you and Harry the night of his transition?"

"What makes you think …?"

"It was plainly evident, the moment I joined the two of you in the Room of Requirement that something had happened."

Severus didn't answer, but instead gazed out at the last sliver of the sun before it dropped below the horizon.

"And ever since that night," Dumbledore continued, "both you and Harry have been pensive."

Severus leaned back against the thick-paned window. "I don't know what to do."

Albus had never heard Severus speak in this manner. "What is wrong my boy?"

After a sigh and a few moments hesitation, Severus explained what had happened when Harry looked into his eyes immediately following the transition; that somehow he had seen into Severus' soul and now knew all his memories, all that he felt — everything. Then Severus looked squarely at Albus and his desperation was clearly evident. "How can I live with this exposure?"

"But how did it happen? Did he use Legilimency?"

"No. Well, at least not intentionally," he said and dragged his hand through his thick mane. "I think that what occurred, happened because I was standing on the fringe of his magic."

"What do you mean 'the fringe of his magic'?"

"During Harry's transition, a field of light encircled him." Severus took a healthy swallow of his Scotch and then continued. "I believe that this light was his magic radiating around him.

"Dear Merlin," Albus whispered in awe. "In all my years, I have never heard of such a thing."

"It was foolish of me, but I walked as close as I could, and stood at its edge."

"It's amazing you weren't killed."

"He now knows everything about me," Severus said in a desperate tone.

The old wizard was quiet for a long time as he stroked his long beard and pondered what Severus had just told him.

"I don't see how I can continue as his Professor."

"Why would you say that?" asked Dumbledore. "Harry is a good person. I have faith in his character; he would never violate your privacy. The only threat would be if Voldemort were to …"

"Harry's shield against Legilimency is strong," Severus interrupted, "even more so now than it was before. He would have to lose total control the Dark Lord to gain access."

A flash of light and the sudden arrival of the shoebox on Dumbledore's desk interrupted their conversation.

They'd been waiting for days for its arrival and knew exactly what it contained.

Members of the Order had been working in and around the town of Ballymena ever since the discovery of Neville Longbottom's postcard. In the three weeks hence, they'd located the mansion and determined that it must be Voldemort's hide-out.

"Who was supposed to accompany this?" asked Severus. "Shouldn't Lupin or Tonks..."

"They're staying in Ballymena to continue surveillance of the area," Dumbledore answered as he strode quickly to his desk and retrieved the permetiorscope from the shoebox. "They'll send word if they need any help."

He placed the silver instrument atop a large piece of blank parchment then tapped it with his wand and incanted, "Ostendo sum."

Immediately, the permetiorscope clinked and chimed and then began to roll across the parchment. In its wake, it left a trail of umber colored ink that outlined the perimeter of the mansion's wards via a complex series of Arithmancy notations.

They stared at the notations.

"I believe I can decipher these, but it will take time," said Dumbledore.

"Perhaps you should find someone to assist you, what with the students arriving on Sunday."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'll see what I can accomplish this weekend. If it proves to be too much, I'll bring it to Channon," he said and then looked to Severus with concern. "I do sympathize for your situation, but I believe that you can trust in Harry's judgment to safeguard his knowledge."

"It seems I have no choice."

Albus looked down at the recording. "I had better begin deciphering these notations."

"Very well, I'll leave you to it." Severus finished his drink with one swallow then turned to leave.

"Would you do me a favor on your way down to the dungeon?"

"Certainly."

"I was going to inform Harry about his nomination as Head Boy, but I …" He pointed his hand to the recording. "Would you please deliver the good news to him?"

Unfortunately, this request didn't fit in with the proclamation Severus had handed Harry the previous day. It had come on the heels of yet another argument that had ended with Severus stating that they were to only interact during class periods.

"Severus, did you hear me"

How could he tell Albus Dumbledore that he, Severus Snape, was trying to avoid Harry?

"I could ask Minerva, if this is a problem."

"No, I'll do it. But before I go there's one more matter I wish to discuss."

"Yes?" Albus was now anxious to begin his analysis.

"Do you think staying with Priestly is wise?" Severus asked.

"He simply needs to settle in."

"I'm serious Albus," his voice became hard. "He's going to be trouble and besides which..."

"What?"

"I don't like his attitude about Harry."

"What do you propose I do? He was the only one willing to take on the job and classes start Monday. Now if you wouldn't mind …" he left the sentence hanging and indicated toward the recording.

Severus' robes swirled as he turned and then exited the room.

~SH~

"Well, well. If it isn't Severus Snape," Galatea Merrythought spoke in a sing song voice as the wizard approached her portrait.

She had grown quite fond of Harry over the summer and frankly, she was angry with Severus for having caused the young man so much grief these past three weeks.

"Galatea," he responded cautiously.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon."

"Would you please announce my presence?"

"I don't know if I should."

"That _is_ why you are hanging here, so please do your job."

"My _job,_ as you so eloquently phrased, is to protect Harry from harmful intruders."

"I am hardly that," Severus spat.

"Really? I believe that describes you exactly." Galatea Merrythought was not one easily intimidated. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to him?" she hissed. "Do you even care?"

He knew she was right. He had been unfair to Harry, but it wasn't intentional. Ever since that night following Harry's transition, Severus had been on an emotional see-saw. This entire idea of Harry having a romantic interest in him was unbelievable.

It didn't appear that she would allow him entrance, so he pulled out the trump card. "I am here on Dumbledore's request. Now please, announce my arrival."

"Well you're out of luck; he isn't here."

"You could have mentioned that earlier."

"Yes, I suppose I could have," she replied sarcastically.

"What do you want, Professor?"

Severus whipped around to see Harry standing there with an armful of roses. "I didn't hear you approach."

"My apologies, Sir." The whole business with 'Professor' and 'Sir' were intentional barbs, and Severus knew it.

"Harry, Dumbledore asked me to deliver some news to you."

Harry's track record for 'news being delivered to him' generally meant that someone had been killed or injured, and he immediately thought the worse. The hard look disappeared from his face and was replaced with one of intense concern. "Who's hurt? What's happened?"

"Nothing is wrong," Severus said and stepped toward the young wizard, but Harry stepped backward to maintain their distance.

Severus halted in response and said in a dejected tone, "I bring you good news."

"Why didn't Dumbledore come himself?" Harry wasn't at all that pleased to see Severus, not after their last encounter.

"Do we have to hold this conversation out in the hallway?"

The movement of Galatea, waving her hands and mouthing the words, 'Don't let him in', caught Harry's eye.

"Fine Sir," he huffed then marched past Severus. The portrait of Galatea swung open to allow him entry, but it swung closed a little too abruptly as soon as Severus passed by and hit him on his behind.

"So, what's the good news?" Harry asked, not bothering to sit down.

"Can we please call a truce? Just long enough for me to deliver the news, after which, if you insist on this petty hostility; I will be happy to oblige you." Severus was at his rope's end.

Harry sank onto the couch and tossed the roses onto the table. "No. I really don't want that."

Severus sat down across from him. "I apologize for the other night," he said and it occurred to him, that he'd become entirely too familiar with this act of apologizing.

"Yeah well, tell me another one."

"Harry, listen …"

"No, you listen!" He sat up and leaned forward, "It's always the same thing. You begin to let me in, and then you push me away." The air began to crackle.

"Please calm down."

"Don't worry; I'm not going to surge. That's all over with now. So no, I _won't_ calm down … and don't try to change the subject."

"Fine. I'll just leave."

"You go right ahead, Pro-fes-sor," he spat out each syllable.

This time, Harry beat Severus to the grand exit; he marched into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

Severus remained seated on the couch. He sat there a long time, just thinking.

He had to admit to the fact that ever since that night, every time he and Harry had spoken, their discussion had ended in an argument. There was no point in denying the truth that all of their arguments were because of him, Severus; because of his stance that, despite his feelings, he simply could not allow someone into his life.

Severus looked to the pile of roses lying thirsty on the table, and the roses made him think of Harry, and how he had been so forthwith regarding his feelings.

He picked up one of the roses and thought about last October, when he'd been injured and Harry had sent a part of himself to protect and comfort him, and how wonderful it had felt to be surrounded by Harry's love.

Now here he was, sitting out on the couch while Harry sat but a room away, wanting only to love him.

"I've been a fool," Severus said to himself.

He got up, carried the rose over to the door and knocked.

"Go away," Harry's muffled voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Severus tried the door and was surprised to find that it wasn't Warded. He opened it and saw Harry perched on his window sill, staring out at the hot night.

"Please Sev, go away. I can't take this anymore."

"I seem to find myself continually apologizing to you. It's become a bad habit, one that I'd like to rectify."

_Yeah well, good luck,_ Harry thought as he stared determinately out the window and not at Severus.

"Is what you said, true?"

"What, about my feelings?" Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "I've told you over and over — go ahead and use Legilimency on me. I won't put up my shield."

But instead of Legilimency, Severus held out the rose. It was Harry's favorite rose: the Peace rose.

"Harry, I do believe that you care for me, and we both know how I feel about you."

At these words, Harry took a hold of the rose and turned to Severus. "What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is that it doesn't matter how we feel about each other, there's nothing we can do about it," Severus added apologetically.

"What are you on about?"

"You are a student and I am your teacher."

"What the hell does that matter?"

"It matters to me," and now Severus' voice was quite emphatic. "I will _not_ have relations with a student. I simply will not."

"But, but…"

"And I can't believe that you would wait until you graduate."

They stared at each other with those frank words hanging in the still silence of the night.

"You're beautiful Harry, young and popular. And believe it or not, I do remember what it's like to be seventeen."

"You think I'm gonna crawl into bed with the first guy that comes along, don't you."

"Seventeen is seventeen."

"Then use Legilimency on me; you have to know what you mean to me."

Severus was tempted.

"_Please_," Harry implored. Then he closed his eyes, leaned in close and tipped his head back, as if he were offering himself to Severus.

Severus drew his wand hesitantly and then with extreme care he incanted, "Legilimens."

Harry brought to the forefront of his mind all his thoughts and feelings about Severus: _his respect for Sev's intellect and his quirky dry sense of humor, how he loved that thick straight hair and his admiration for Sev's ability at espionage, how sexy he thought Sev looked in that silk Muggle shirt and his fantasies about having sex with him. He shared how he had thought he could never love anyone after what happened last October, but with Sev it was different - they were both warriors in the same cause, they both knew the risks - and they both loved roses. _

Severus gasped in surprise as he lowered his wand and made to step away, but Harry held on to him. "Please Sev, give this a chance," he whispered, "give _us_ a chance."

Severus stared into Harry's beautiful emerald eyes and thought how very easily he could drown in that verdant gaze. "It will be difficult."

"I don't care."

"You might change your mind."

"I won't."

Severus finally surrendered, pulled Harry to him and held him in his arms. "You are _such_ an insufferable brat."

Harry smiled as he tightened his grasp and relished in the feel of Severus, "'And you're _such_ a snarky git."

~SH~

Author's note:

Permetiorscope- I decided to give a name and a purpose for one of those mysterious 'delicate silver instruments' that sat in Dumbledore's office. I like the idea that this little object could fly around and measure the dimensions of a Ward. (Permetior: Latin verb - to measure out, to travel, to measure through)

Ostendo sum: This incantation does not exist in canon but I needed one to command the 'permetiorscope' to reveal its finding. (Ostendo sum: Latin command - reveal)


	25. Sidle into Seventh Year

**25. Sidle into Seventh Year**

"Were we really that small?" Harry asked as he watched the approaching group of intimidated eleven year olds.

"Shhh! You're supposed to be setting an example," she retorted.

Professor McGonagall stopped the crop of first years just outside the doors of the Great Hall.

"Attention children," she clapped her hands and spoke in her thick Scottish brogue. "We will enter the hall momentarily, but first I wish to introduce you to this year's Head Boy and Head Girl: Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Hermione Granger.

Sudden gasps echoed round the stone foyer as the children gaped in wonder at 'The Boy Who Lived.' Their initial reactions were followed by an assortment of whispers: "Wow!", "Can you see his scar?", "Is that really him?"

Harry squirmed at the unwanted attention but forced a smile and a feeble, "Hello."

Hermione was more verbose, "Welcome to Hogwarts! You're going to _love_ being a student here and you'll learn so many wonderful facts regarding magic and history. I remember my first day," she continued enthusiastically, but McGonagall cleared her throat determinately to interrupt the verbal avalanche.

Hermione smiled sheepishly at the stern witch then finished up quickly, "If you have any questions, bring them to your prefects. Good luck!"

McGonagall redirected her attention back to the youngsters, "You will follow me to the front of the hall and wait for you name to be called to receive your house placement. Be on your best behavior and show the student body what fine little witches and wizards you all are. Understood?"

"Yes Ma'am," came a resounding chorus of small voices.

The tartan clad professor led the group of frightened fledglings into the Hall, with Harry and Hermione bringing up the rear. As soon as he entered, Harry looked up to the head table and caught sight of Severus looking right back at him.

They'd had a long discussion about the importance of being discreet while in public. That was difficult enough, worse was Severus' staunch belief that physical interactions between the two of them would have to wait until Harry graduated. It was agonizing for both men, as each one wanted to get their hands on the other but a pleasant side effect of this denial was their mutual feelings of continued excitement and arousal. It was a delicious, agonizing state to be in.

As the group of first years reached the front of the hall and came to a stop, Harry, who had with his eyes trained on Severus, missed the halt and actually bumped into the back of little Matthew Zunich.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized then sat down quickly at the Gryffindor table and received a teasing elbow in the ribs.

"Good one," chuckled Ron and Harry rolled his eyes at his own blunder.

The noise in the hall silenced when the sorting began.

Harry watched each timid youth climb on top of the stool and disappear under the hat and he thought back to his own sorting and what a very great distance he'd traveled since that night six years ago. All the events that had taken place, everything that had happened to himself, his friends, and to those he loved.

He shook away the heavy thoughts and redirected his attention to the atmosphere in the castle and how it had changed so much in just one day.

Earlier in the day, it had been quiet and peaceful, but now the castle rang with voices and energy from the returning students. That morning he had woken up in his private bed in his private suite, but tonight he would lie down on his old four poster and fall asleep whilst listening to Ron and Seamus snore, Neville mumble and Dean ... well, Dean was pretty quiet.

"I hope they hurry up, I'm starving" grumbled Ron then he pressed his leg against Hermione's, "Hey, did you tell Harry?"

"There wasn't time," she whispered back.

"Tell me what?" whispered Harry and their conversation took on a stealth-like quality.

"Malfoy, on Friday," Ron answered enigmatically.

"What're you on about?"

Hermione clarified, "Friday, when we were in Diagon Alley, we saw Draco and his father head down Knockturn Alley."

"So? I've seen them down there before … at Borgin and Burkes."

"That's where they were headed this time!" Ron added.

"So what's the big deal?"

"Harry," Hermione's voice was low and serious, "it was their attitude that drew our attention." Hermione then looked left and right to make sure no one was listening, "I think that Malfoy was summoned."

"Draco?" Harry whispered aghast.

"Not Draco, you dolt," rectified Ron, "his father."

"Oh," Harry now looked over to the Slytherin table. Draco would typically be boasting and bragging in full bravado to his cronies, but the blond haired boy seemed oddly silent and tense.

Harry turned to Hermione, "What time did this happen?"

"Friday afternoon, around two," she answered.

Harry leaned back on the bench and pondered. He'd seen Severus that night and spent all of Saturday with him. _Why would Malfoy be called, but not Sev?_

~SH~

The next morning after breakfast, Harry examined his class schedule, which he'd just received from McGonagall. Defense was the first class of the week, both a lecture and a practical session that would fill the entire morning.

"Damn," he drawled quietly and then looked over to the Slytherin table where Severus was up to his lovely long, alabaster neck with students and schedules. Unlike last year, Harry had hoped that potions would be his first class, or double potions or even triple, anything just to be near Sev.

"Come on Harry," called Ron. "We've got to get going or we'll be late for Defense."

The Golden Trio walked into the third floor classroom to find Professor Priestly at the front, facing the students as they entered. His arms were folded across his chest. He'd drawn his wand and was holding it pointed toward the ceiling and on his face he wore a stern expression.

That greeting set the mood; all the students silently took their seats without preamble.

Priestly introduced himself and began to walk slowly up and down each aisle, still holding his wand, and explained exactly what the students could expect from this seventh year Defense class.

"There is a great deal of material to be covered in order to prepare for the upcoming N.E.W.T.'s," he stated, and there would be "no time or tolerance for chatter or horsing around." "This is not to be a social hour," he continued and informed the class that they were only allowed to speak when they answered a direct question from him, or to ask him a direct question. Additionally, he had charmed the room to identify each student as Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, so that if one of them did speak outside these guidelines, five points would automatically be deducted from his or her house.

Ron's cheeks had reddened more with each spoken word. The expression on Hermione's face had gone from exuberant, to a downright glower. The majority of the Gryffindors in the room bristled in their seats while the poor Hufflepuffs were simply terrified.

With all his work over the summer in strategy and intelligence, Harry had listened to Priestly's verbal diatribe with an impartial perspective. Instead of reacting, Harry had realized that the new professor was using the tactic of intimidation to establish his position of authority.

"We will begin with the Hex Reversing Hex," continued Professor Priestly. "I am certain all of you read the note attached to your book list, stating that you were to read the first chapter of your text in order to prepare for this first class."

The students were uncertain whether or not Priestly was asking them a question or making a statement, so no one dared answer and risk losing points.

Priestly took the silence as confirmation, "Fine. Then stand and partner with the student closest to you."

Harry immediately looked encouragingly over to Neville, indicating that he would partner with him. But before he could take a step, Priestly had moved to his side. "I am told Mr. Potter, that you are quite accomplished in defensive magic," his tone nearly dripped with cynicism.

"I suppose that would be a matter of opinion, Sir."

Priestly stared momentarily; disappointed that Harry hadn't taken the bait. "Do you feel confident enough to assist me in demonstrating this Hex?"

"Yes Sir."

The professor narrowed his eyes, as if he were eying a prey. "Very well, Mr. Potter, please follow me to the front of the class."

Everyone had paired up in record time. When they realized that Harry was now standing at the head of the class facing Priestly for a duel, they looked on with trepidation.

"Attention students. Mr. Potter and I will demonstrate the Hex Reversing Hex. He will attempt to cast a Twitchy Ears Hex upon me; I will in turn deflect the hex downward toward the floor using the Hex Reversing Hex. Pay close attention to my movements. Are there any questions"

"No Sir," they answered in unison.

"Very well." He turned to face Harry. "You may precede, Mr. Potter."

Harry started to raise his hand when Priestly suddenly yelled, "Stop!"

The students nearly jumped at the sudden outburst.

"Use your wand Mr. Potter. I will not tolerate show-offs in my class."

"I'm not trying to show-off Sir. I just need to cast that hex wandlessly."

Priestly actually gasped. "Neither will I tolerate backtalk. Now do as you were told."

The students shifted their attention from Priestly to Harry, as if they were watching a tennis match.

"Respectfully Sir, I can't … I won't do it."

"Draw your wand," Priestly spoke deliberately, emphasizing each word, "and cast as you have been instructed or I will assign you detention."

Harry stared in disbelief at the thin lipped professor. "Sir, if I could just explain …"

"Out! Get out of my classroom and report to the infirmary for detention. You are to wash every soiled bedpan there and have the Mediwitch document your work. Do you understand?"

"You can't do that," called out Ron in disbelief, "he's the Head Boy!"

"Ron no," returned Harry. You'll just loose points for Gryffindor." Then he added in a softer voice. "It's all right."

"I'm not going to say this again Mr. Potter. Get out — and don't bother coming back."

_What does__ he mean 'don't bother coming back?'_ thought Harry. _Does __he mean just today, or did he just kick me out of the class?_ "Sir, what do you …?"

"Out!"

Harry was stunned for a moment, but then he turned and quickly fetched his book-bag and then left the classroom without saying another word.

Madame Pomfrey was checking her supplies and looked up in surprise when Harry walked into her office. "Not again, Harry. It's only the first day of classes."

"Pardon?" he asked in confusion.

"Where are you injured?" She walked over and eyed him. "You're very pale."

"I'm not hurt; I'm here to serve my detention." Harry dropped his schoolbag on the floor. "I'm supposed to clean all the bedpans."

"What bedpans?" She asked and pointed toward the doorway that led to the infirmary. "I have no patients."

"Thank God," he sighed in relief.

"What in the world did you do to warrant a detention?"

Harry slumped onto a nearby chair. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

Poppy smiled sympathetically, sat down next to him and took hold of his hand, "Try me."

~SH~

"Here you are! We've been looking all over for you!" exclaimed Ron and Hermione when they opened the door to the dorm room and saw Harry and Hedwig sitting on his bed. Hermione walked straight over and sat next to him.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm okay," his tone was subdued. "What happened after I left?"

"That Priestly is a blinking jerk," proclaimed Ron. "I swear Harry, I don't know if I can take it!"

"He takes all the fun out of spell casting," Hermione said in a downcast voice.

"Did he kick out anybody else?"

"Nah, we all did what he told us."

"He was very methodical and we all managed to do the hex — even Neville," she added as an afterthought.

"So mate … did you do the detention?" Ron cringed at the thought.

"There weren't any patients, so no bedpans. Besides, Madame Pomfrey wanted to know what happened … so I told her. Then she took me up to see the Headmaster.

They waited for him to continue, but Harry simply stared at the bed-cover while he stroked the top of Hedwig's head.

"Go on, tell us what happened," encouraged Hermione.

"Do you know," asked Harry, "if in the history of Hogwarts, has there ever been a Head Boy that received detention?"

Hermione furrowed her brow and thought a moment. "I don't think so. At least I've never read of such an incident."

"Great," mumbled Harry. "It's bad enough that I'm the 'Boy Who Lived,' now I'm also the first Head Boy to ever receive detention."

"Come on mate … worse things could happen."

"Oh yeah? … What?"

Ron pursed his lips and thought a moment, "I know," he stated in triumph, "Malfoy could catch the Snitch instead of you."

Harry gave a little chuckle.

"Why wouldn't you cast that spell wanded?" Hermione redirected.

Harry rubbed his thumb along the top of Hedwig's head. She liked it when he did that and hooted softly in appreciation. "If I'd cast that easy hex with my wand … the professor would have wound up in St. Mungos for months."

"What are you saying?" Hermione asked with some unease.

"You know about my magic level now that I've come of age."

"Yeah," answered Ron, "but what does that have to do with …"

"I know." Hermione interrupted as she suddenly realized. "Your spell casting is too strong now to use with a wand, right?"

Harry nodded with embarrassment. "It depends on the spell and what I want to accomplish, but as far as classroom work — yeah, I have to stick with just wandless casting.

"You should be proud of that mate," Ron stated emphatically. "Don't pay any attention to that bum Priestly."

Hermione quirked a frustrating look to Ron, "What happened with the Headmaster?"

"There's going to be a meeting tonight."

"What about?" she pressed.

Harry shrugged, "Dunno. Dumbledore was quiet for a long time after I told him what happened, then he apologized and told me to come back tonight for a meeting."

"Apologized?" Ron burst out, "the Headmaster apologized?"

"Why did this have to happen?" Harry said and let his head tip back and thump against the headboard. "I really hoped that this year would be … well, normal."

"It doesn't work like that for you mate," Ron said as if he were stating a fact. "But it'll be okay. The Headmaster will fix it, you'll see."

"Come on," Hermione tugged lightly on Harry's hand, "let's go eat lunch."

"I'm not hungry."

"You gotta eat mate. We have Charms and Transfiguration this afternoon."

"Well …"

"Come on Harry, let's go."

~SH~

"Thank you for coming this evening," Dumbledore addressed the group that had assembled in his office: Solomon Priestly, Minerva, Filius, Severus and Harry. "I've asked you here in response to the events that transpired today."

They had already received a recap of the entire Defense class fiasco.

"I wish to start by assuming full responsibility for this morning's misunderstanding," stated Albus in a clear voice.

"Misunderstanding?" Severus asked in an ironic tone.

"Yes Severus, a misunderstanding. None of this would have happened if I had taken the time to brief Solomon in regards to Harry's advanced level of casting."

Solomon sat stony faced and made a point not to establish eye contact with anyone present. He was livid at Dumbledore for his oversight and didn't appreciate being called out like this. Even worse, he was embarrassed to be in Harry's presence now that he realized the young man had forsaken his own pride to assure his professor's well-being.

Severus eyed the newcomer. "And are we to assume that he is now fully briefed?"

"Yes Severus, he is," assured Dumbledore.

"So how can we be of help, Albus?" asked Minerva.

"Harry is clearly beyond the skill level of his fellow classmates. My question is: can you continue to teach him in the classroom environment?"

The professors all pondered this question, all but Severus. He sat next to Harry and turned now to face the tense young man. "Do you have an opinion in this matter?" he asked softly.

Just sitting next to Sev had been a relief, and now that he looked into those dark eyes, Harry managed to release the breath he'd unknowingly been holding. "Yes Sir, I do."

"Please tell us."

Harry, who had sat ramrod straight from nerves, now sat straight because of a sense of pride at being treated as an adult. When he finally spoke, he gave extra care to his choice of words, "My additional training has been primarily in offensive and defensive magic." Then he looked to Minerva. "I still struggle with Transfiguration …"

"Not now," she countered.

"But I still have much to learn."

She nodded her head, "That you do."

"And Charms are always so tricky," Harry looked over to Professor Flitwick.

"This is true," interjected the tiny wizard. "But since your majority, I've seen a marked improvement," he added encouragingly.

"Filius, do you think Harry is beyond the level of the other students?" Dumbledore asked pointedly.

"Not at all," answered the professor in his high squeaky voice. "You know as well as I do Albus that success in Charms requires subtlety. I think it is not so much a case of what charms he knows, but his level of finesse when he casts them." Flitwick smiled at Harry, "No offense Mr. Potter, but there is always room for improvement in that regard."

"Then it appears the only area at issue is Offensive and Defensive magic," clarified Dumbledore.

"Yes Sir," agreed Harry.

"Do you have any input in this matter?" Dumbledore asked the silent Defense teacher.

Priestly cleared his throat and shifted his position, "Frankly, I think that Mr. Potter would be bored if he remained in the class."

"Perhaps he could assist you," offered Minerva.

Priestly bristled at the suggestion, but before he could voice his opposition, Severus interjected quite emphatically, "Harry has a tremendous calling awaiting him. His time should be devoted to preparing for this undertaking — not wasted as a teacher's assistant."

Severus' words hung in the air like a beacon, bringing a renewed light upon the dark task that lay ahead for Harry.

"Very well then," offered Albus, "I believe any further consideration regarding this matter can be handled between Harry and me. I will brief each of you tomorrow morning of my decision. Thank you for coming."

They all rose from their chairs and Priestly left the room without speaking to anyone. Filius offered words of encouragement to Harry, and stated clearly that he would be delighted to work with him to further refine his technique. Minerva laid a supportive hand on Harry's shoulder then whispered softly to him. Whatever she said, it made him smile.

After the others had left the room, Severus resumed the conversation, "We could continue on as we did this summer."

"Your schedule is already full Severus," Albus pointed out, "but perhaps if we split the duties..."

Harry and Severus waited for Albus to consider this possibility.

"I will compare your daily schedule with my own and Harry's and attempt to devise a plan."

"Thank you Sir," Harry said through a sigh of relief. It had been too long of a day and he felt totally drained. "I'm so sorry this happened."

Dumbledore placed a hand on each of the young man's shoulders. "You have no reason to apologize. In fact, I commend you for your courage and conviction to do what was right. We all know what the outcome would have been if you had cast that hex wanded."

Harry looked down, "Yes Sir."

Albus gave Harry's shoulders a squeeze and stepped away, "It's been a busy day and I have schedules to compare, so if you wouldn't mind gentlemen, I will bid you Good Night."

They returned the salutation and exited the office. As soon as the door closed, Severus pulled Harry to him.

"Priestly is a fool," Severus nearly spat the words with contempt as he wrapped his arms around the hard young torso. "Sadly, his actions remind me of my previous attitude toward you."

"That was a lifetime ago; don't think about it," Harry whispered as he nestled his head into the crook of Sev's neck. "I missed you." He snuggled even more, inadvertently pushing Severus back against the wall. "Maybe I could get my Invisibility Cloak and come down to your quarters."

Severus ran his fingers through the raven hair. "No Harry," he said softly.

"But I missed you _so much_, and it's only been one day. How are we going to make it until the end of the semester?"

Their whispered voices echoed up and down the deserted spiral staircase. "I warned you that this would be difficult. Are you certain you want …?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Harry interrupted and looked intently into those ebony eyes, "and don't ask me that again."

Then Harry reached up to kiss Severus, but the man turned his head slightly to avoid Harry's lips, and instead pressed his cheek against the softer one.

"No Harry, we can't," he whispered.

Harry exhaled his frustration through his wanting lips. He loved being close to Sev and he loved the intimacy they shared. And even though his groin was about ready to burst, he knew what he was doing wasn't fair. Harry loved and Sev, and he didn't want to mess up whatever chance they might have over something as rank as his teenage horniness.

"I know." Then he cast a suggestive look. "But just you wait till I graduate."

"I'll hold you to that, Mr. Potter."

~SH~


	26. Broken Open, part 1

**26. Broken Open, part 1**

_Broken pieces, break into me._

_So imperfectly what you should be._

_Lay here, it's safe here, I'll let you be broken open._

_Hide you, confide to you so we can be broken open.*_

_~o~_

Voldemort spoke in a soft hiss as he read the document written in Parseltongue.

The fragile parchment from which he read, was one of several literary artifacts he'd found decades ago, tucked away in a small warded room in a dark corner of the Chamber of Secrets.

He treasured these old scribed relics from Salazar Slytherin and had pulled three from their safekeeping in response to the recent threat posed by the Order.

Voldemort knew it was only a matter of time before Dumbledore, or someone else in his band of do gooders, managed to decipher the wards that surrounded his manor and he had no intention to wait around for the showdown.

No, he would have to abandon his home and move his operations — but to where?

Tom recalled having read of an ancient fortress when he'd originally scanned through the then recently discovered artifacts. It was a fastness and at the time, its existence had been a mere fact of interest, something he might someday investigate. But recent developments had spurred his renewed interest, for now it was imperative that he find this place.

His slit like eyelids widened around his intense red gaze when he finally found the correct passage of Parseltongue. He then set aside the document and, using the coordinates given, he examined the large map he'd spread out across his mahogany desk.

It took some time, but he finally found what appeared to be the correct location, and he released a stifled sigh of satisfaction through his narrow nares, but knew there was no time to gloat on his success; he would have to leave immediately to investigate his findings, despite the fact that operations were underway on that forsaken rock in the North Sea.

"My Lord," Pettigrew called timidly from his bowed position in the doorway.

"You may speak."

"My Lord, we have received communication from Malfoy."

"Continue."

"He reports that all the captives have survived and that they are making their way southward along the chain of safe holds."

"How far have they progressed?"

"To the third shack, per his report."

"Very good," he said as he rolled up the map, "and what is their condition?"

"Malfoy reports that the majority of survivors are experiencing assorted affects from their imprisonment; he is asking for Snape."

Voldemort considered the news. "Send word for them to hold their position. They will not continue here as previously planned, but will instead use the three southern most stations to house the survivors until I send for them."

"Yes, my Lord."

"When you have completed that task, you will then proceed to shrink and pack all of my furnishings and belongings."

Pettigrew barely hid his shock at this pronouncement, "Of course My Lord, as you wish." He managed to dip his bow even lower and then backed out of the room.

Voldemort stood slowly and rolled up the left sleeve of his robe. He was thrilled by the intensity of all that was occurring simultaneously: the apparent successful attack on Azkaban, the escape of his captured Death Eaters, the Order's looming threat upon his manor and his very own delicious thwart against their endeavors in discovering the whereabouts of the Fastness.

His cock grew hard with self satisfaction as he pulled out his wand and pressed its tip to his Dark Mark, after which he took the piece of hard wood and rubbed it up and down that of his own. "Perhaps a bit of indulgence before I depart might be in order," he said and smiled with anticipation at the thought of Severus' alabaster ass.

~SH~

Severus stared at the lifting darkness in his bedroom as he stroked himself to a truly dismal completion. The satisfaction from his orgasm was minimal at best, but it was either jack off alone … again, or walk into seventh year potions with a hard on.

He'd lain awake for hours, thinking about the other night when he and Harry stood alone on the spiral staircase; the way Harry's soft lips felt upon his cheek, how his slight sculptured torso fit perfectly in Severus' arms and how he had swum in a heady sensation when that young length had wedged up tightly against his own.

Severus sighed as he recalled Harry's tempting voice echo in his mind, _How are we going to make it all semester? _

"I don't know Harry," he whispered softly, "I don't know."

Giving up on any further sleep, Severus threw back the covers, banished away the mess and made to prepare for this day's classes. He decided to skip breakfast in the Great Hall that morning, skip the noise and the temptation to watch Harry and his physical response that would no doubt ensue.

A long hot shower, a strong cup of Ceylon tea and a half hour or so in his lab for some peaceful, private brewing sounded infinitely more appealing.

Severus stepped towards the loo, but before he could even cast a Lumos, the Mark on his arm burned so fiercely that he nearly doubled over in pain.

This was unusual to say the least, to be summoned on a school day morning. And from the severity of the summons, he knew he'd best respond immediately. There wouldn't be time for a shower or proper attire; the best he could manage would be to throw a robe over his naked body and depart.

~SH~

The Dark Lord's intense summons brought Severus to an unexpected destination. Not the foyer as was customary, but directly to the Dark Lord's study.

"Ah Severus, you're promptness delights me."

He dropped to his knees, "My Lord, how may I be of service."

Voldemort smiled at the choice of words. "I'm afraid your students will have to do without you for a day or two," he spoke coyly as he strode slowly toward his potions master.

"My Lord?"

"You must know how highly I value your skills with potions; rarely do I send you into the field, but that is exactly what I am requiring of you this morning."

Severus waited patiently for his master to get to the point.

"You will be pleased know that your fellow Death Eaters who were captured the summer before last, have now been freed from Azkaban and are currently taking refuge at a number of safe keepings …" he paused, "I suppose shacks would be a better choice of word. None the less, your services have been requested."

Severus Occluded his shock at this news, "No doubt, there were injuries …"

"Something of that order," Voldemort began to prepare himself as he walked up behind Severus.

"Of course My Lord, I shall leave at once."

"Not so fast, dear Severus."

Voldemort reached out with one of his boney white fingers and pulled away the lace that had held Severus' long thick hair, allowing the strands to splay across his back in a sheet of shining black.

"Before you leave, I wish to spend a private moment with you."

The words caused Severus' heart to skip a beat at what was obviously about to take place. It wouldn't be the first time the Dark Lord had claimed this service from him, but it had been years, and during that time Severus had managed to safely bury the horrible rawness from the earlier rapes, into that locked box deep inside his soul.

The pristine wanting he shared with Harry blew away as a vapor in the wind. He closed his mind and closed his heart when his master lifted his robe and whispered in his ear, "Put your hands on the floor."

~SH~

"Does Snape think we don't have anything better to do then sit here and wait for him to show up?" spouted off Ron indignantly.

It was twenty minutes past the hour and the students in seventh year potions were growing restless, all except for three.

As he had been the entire first week of school, Draco was oddly quiet and withdrawn. He'd known about the planned attack on Azkaban, knew that his father was in charge of its operation and that he would be gone for days if not weeks.

They'd argued about it, and since his summons nearly a week ago, Draco had worried nonstop about his father's well being.

Snape's absence this morning merely confirmed to the teen, the fact that it had happened — or that it was happening. Perhaps the later was the case since there had been no mention of it in that morning's Daily Prophet.

On the other side of the room sat two other quiet students.

During breakfast that morning, halfway through his meal, Harry was overtaken by — something. He couldn't put a name to it. He wasn't sick per say, but he definitely didn't feel good.

On top of that now was the fact that Sev hadn't turned up to class. He hadn't been at breakfast either, but at the time Harry wasn't worried, as Severus quite of skived off breakfast in the Great Hall.

Harry knew in his heart that something had happened to Severus, and his worry added to this awful feeling was now starting to make him feel positively ill.

"Maybe he overslept?" called out one of the students.

"Did anyone check his office?" asked Zabini.

Don't ya think, if he were in there, he'd a come out here by now, ya dolt?" countered Ron.

"Listen Weazlebeak, if you want a fight we'll be happy to oblige."

"Oh yeah? You and who else?" leveled the redhead. "Malfoy over there?" he said jokingly, "or maybe you were thinking of Parkinson."

Pansy was about ready to walk over and let Ron have it when Argus Filch marched into the room.

"Quiet down, quiet down," he ordered as he advanced to the front of the class.

"Professor Snape is sick, so the Headmaster wants you all to use this class as a study period."

The students responded with a resounding moan of disapproval.

"And I'm tah stay here n' keep an eye on all of ya." He pressed his thin lips together and peered around the room, relishing in this snippet of authority.

"Now open yer books and shut yer mouths. I don't want tah hear a peep outta ya."

The moans settled down as the students unwillingly pulled out their books and began to read — or at least they pretended to.

Ron decided to take this opportunity to work on his Quidditch playbook, while several students simply began passing notes back and forth.

Hermione looked to Harry's pallid face. "Perhaps you should go see Madame Pomfrey," she whispered.

"For the tenth time Mione … I'm not sick!" he whispered back adamantly. "It's probably just that banger I had," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah right," she huffed as she pulled out her book and tried to read. Although they hadn't talked, she had noticed the way Harry was always looking at Snape and vice versa, and though Snape was better at wearing a mask of indifference than was Harry, the expression in his eyes had occasionally given him away.

She knew damn well something going on between the two of them, just as she knew damn well that Snape would never not turn up to class just for being 'under the weather'.

Something was wrong, and Harry's unease was confirmation of both her suspicions.

~SH~

It was late on Friday, Severus was still missing and the awful feeling that had hit Harry so suddenly the previous morning had plagued him incessantly now for two days. He could barely concentrate enough to do his schoolwork, he'd laid awake most of the night worrying and had barely eaten a thing.

He finally broke down and went to see Madame Pomfrey late that afternoon. She ran her tests but couldn't find a physical cause for his condition.

"Perhaps you should stay here over the weekend Harry," She had suggested. "I could monitor you and give you something to help you sleep."

He'd been sitting on the edge of a bed, but stood up immediately. "Oh please no, Madame Pomfrey," he pleaded. "Can't you just give me a vial of something? I promise I'll go back to the tower and rest."

"Well," she wavered then looked to Ron and Hermione who had come to collect their friend when classes had ended. "Only if you two promise to keep an eye on him."

"We will!" assured Ron. Their first Quidditch meeting of the season was scheduled for that evening, and he didn't want Harry to miss it.

"Wait here while I retrieve the potions."

When the Mediwitch returned, she gave Harry something to settle his stomach so that he could at least eat dinner. Then she handed him another vial. "Pay attention now Mr. Potter, this is a combination of Draught of Peace and Dreamless Sleep. Take it ONLY when you've gotten into bed. It's very potent and I don't want you passing out and hurting yourself. Understood?"

"Yes Ma'am."

~SH~

"Explain to me again that Quaffle Round-About Throw?" asked Jimmy Peakes, one of this year's new Beaters.

"Oh, come on Jimmy; haven't you read the playbook? It's right there on page…" Ron turned to Harry, "Do you remember what page it's on?"

Harry, who had been sitting throughout the meeting staring fixedly at the wall in front of him, merely shook his head.

"Hand me my playbook" Ron ordered Katie then turned in surprise when Hermione stepped up to the group congregated in the far corner of the common room. "What are you doing Mione? This meeting's for team members only."

"You go right ahead with your 'team members only' discussion," she leveled back, "Harry and I need to do our rounds."

"But, he's our Seeker!" Ron retorted. "Besides, he's supposed to take it easy."

"It's okay Ron," Harry interjected, "I think I'm going to call it a night. We're almost finished anyway, right?"

"Well …"

"Come on Harry, it's late and I want to get to bed before midnight."

He pushed himself up out of the chair and the two exited the common room.

They slowly worked their way along the seventh floor. After they checked out the remote short hallway at the east end (a favorite make-out spot), she cast a Muffliato before commenting, "It sure is odd about Professor Snape."

"Yeah."

"I'm actually a little worried about him," she pressed in hopes he'd take the bait and tell her what was going on between him and Snape.

"Me too."

So much for bait. She grabbed hold of his arm and turned him to face her. "Listen Harry, I know this is none of my business … but it's obvious, at least to me, that something is going on between you and Professor Snape."

Her words took him off guard. "Wha … that … you're crazy Mione."

"Oh, come on. Don't you think I know you by now?" You …" Her demeanor shifted suddenly from defiance to one of softness. "You care for him, and he cares for you. It's obvious the way the two of you look at each other."

Harry stared speechlessly at her. Sev would be livid if this got out. "Please don't say anything, Mione ... please."

"Of course I won't," she assured. "But when did all this happen?"

"It's complicated," he sighed, "please don't ask me to explain." Now that Hermione knew and he could let his guard down, his green eyes brightened from his fears. "I'm so worried Mione. Something's happened to him, I just know it."

"Have you spoken to the Headmaster?"

He nodded and made to cast a Muffliato.

"I already cast one," she said.

"Oh." He still gave a quick glance left and right. "This is going to come out in the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning."

"What is?"

"There was an attack on Azkaban two nights ago and a bunch of Death Eaters escaped."

"What?"

The Headmaster told me not to say anything, but he thinks that's why Severus was summoned."

"Oh Harry."

"Dumbledore said that Severus sent his Patronus to him, early yesterday morning."

That's just about the time you started feeling ill."

"Yeah, I managed to figure that out already."

"Sorry," she whined … which didn't help. "But listen, I know he'll be okay. I mean, we're talking about Professor Snape."

"He's not invincible!"

"I realize that," she snapped right back, "but you know as well as I, that he's smart and experienced at this sort of thing."

Even though she was right, her words didn't bring him much comfort.

"Harry Potter!"

Both Harry and Hermione startled at the sudden appearance of Dobby. Then Harry quickly and effortlessly, not to mention wandlessly, ended Hermione's Muffliato charm.

"What is it Dobby?"

"Harry Potter is asking Dobby to report when Professor Snape is returning."

"He's back?"

"Yes and Harry Potter must be coming with Dobby quickly!"

"Why? Is he hurt?"

The elf donned a curious expression as he held out Harry's Invisibility Cloak. "Harry Potter must be coming quickly with Dobby," he repeated.

Harry turned to Hermione. "You gotta cover for me Mione. Tell Ron I had to go see the Headmaster, or something."

"Okay, but won't you need help?"

Harry shook his head. "Knowing Sev ..."

She noted his use of the nickname, but didn't interrupt.

"If he's not hurt, then it's something … private." Harry worriedly ran his hand through his hair. "No, I'd better go alone."

He pulled Dobby next to him then swung his cloak to cover them both and they immediately vanished.

~SH~

"He's in there?" Harry whispered with surprise as he pointed to Severus private laboratory.

Dobby nodded.

Harry looked up and down the hallway to make sure no one was around, and then took off his cloak. "I'll take it from here."

"Will Harry Potter be needing help?" Dobby looked up with wide eyes full of concern.

Harry knelt down, "Do me a favor."

"Anything Dobby can be doing for Harry Potter, Dobby is happy to be doing!" he said and nearly jumped up and down in his stocking clad feet.

"After everyone's gone to bed, sneak in and line up the pillows on my bed and then pull the blanket over them, so that it looks like me."

Dobby stared questioningly at his favorite wizard, "Dobby is thinking that Harry Potter's friends will not be thinking that the pillows are being Harry Potter."

"Close the drapes around my bed closed, but leave them open a crack. They all know Madame Pomfrey gave me something to sleep, and they won't try to wake me."

Dobby started to pull on his ear, "Well … all right. Dobby will be doing this for Harry Potter."

He patted Dobby on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll be okay," he added softly. "And thanks for helping me."

Not terribly reassured, Dobby vanished and Harry turned to face the door. He cast one more cautious glance down the hallway, then quietly turned the handle and stepped inside.

Severus was at the opposite end of the room standing halfway inside a large storage cupboard.

"Sev?"

Severus didn't respond. He didn't even seem to realize that Harry was there, but instead continued to move around vial after vial — apparently searching for something.

"Are you okay?" Harry tried again as he walked closer until he stood beside Severus. "What are you looking for?"

"It's not here," Severus said in a desperate tone. "It should be here. Right here! I always keep it here." He spoke in a rushed voice as he repeatedly jabbed his pointed finger at one particular spot on the shelf.

Harry gently laid his hand upon Severus' shoulder and felt that he was trembling.

"Let me help. What d'you need?"

Severus staggered back a couple of steps. "There isn't any," he said and dragged his shaking hand down his sweaty cheek. "I remember now; I was going to make more this winter."

"Make what?" Harry asked urgently. He was scared. He'd never seen Severus or anybody for that fact, act like this.

Severus leaned against the wall and slid down to a crouched position. "What am I going to do?" he asked forlornly and began to rock his torso forward and backward. "I must prepare more of the draught."

Harry knelt down and grabbed a hold of him, trying to stop his rocking. "What draught?"

"Peace." He looked desperately to Harry. "I need peace."

Harry's heart raced with fear. "Peace? I don't understand. You need …" Then he gasped with realization. "You're trying to make the Draught of Peace?"

Severus tried to get up, "Hellebore. I need to harvest Hellebore for the syrup."

"Listen to me Sev, you're not going anywhere. Something happened to you, I don't know what; but I'm gonna get help." He started to call for Dobby but stopped when Severus let out a blood curdling scream.

"No!"

Harry fell off kilter, not only from shock but from the fact that Severus had in turn grabbed a hold of him - soundly.

"No one can see me like this!" Severus yelled. "I must be strong! Always … strong!"

He pushed Harry away to the floor, struggled to a stance and then staggered out of the lab.

Harry was shocked. It took him a moment, but he scrambled to his feet and then took off down the hallway after Severus.

He found the distraught man wedged into a corner of his sitting room with his hands over his face. "How could he do that to her?" he sobbed. "Why did he have to do that to her?"

Harry stood aghast and stared helplessly at his friend. Then he remembered the vial from Madame Pomfrey and snatched it from his pocket. "Look Sev! I found some!" He took a sniff, not sure if Severus would be able to smell the second potion. "Here, drink this."

Severus willingly drank the entire contents then sucked in a breath of shock. "It's not pure. It's not ..." The potion hit him like a ton of bricks and he crumpled to the floor before Harry could react.

"Oh God!" Harry dropped down beside him. "Are you okay?"

Severus wrapped his arms around himself and began to mumble to himself.

"Listen Sev, it'll be okay," Harry said in a consoling tone. "I'll take care of you. Don't worry."

Harry stood up and levitated Severus, still mumbling to himself, to his bedroom and then lowered him gently on his bed.

Severus immediately rolled onto his side and curled up into a fetal position. "The stairs."

Harry sat down and laid a blanket over Severus as he continued with his incoherent remarks, but at least now he was relaxed. "She screamed," he said in a thin and feeble tone.

Harry had been brushing Severus' damp hair away from his clammy brow when those last few words struck him with a cold familiarity.

_Screaming? Stairs?_ He grasped Severus' clenched hand, "Are you talking about your nightmare?"

"She died." The tears, rolling down his cheeks, pooled and began to make a wet spot on his pillow.

"Sev, who are you talking about?" Harry asked, and his word shook upon his trembling voice. "Who was she?"

Severus answered in a whisper as he drifted off to sleep, "Her name was Rosa."

~SH~

Author's notes:

*Chapter title and opening lines taken from Adam Lambert's beautiful ballad: Broken Open.


	27. Broken Open, part 2

**27. Broken Open, part 2**

Neville tip-toed quietly back from the loo, trying to put as little of his feet possible on the chilly stone floor.

Sure, he could have worn his warm felt-lined leather slippers; in fact his Gran was adamant that he wear slippers when at home, as the notion of bare feet was simply too provincial, but his slippers had a tendency to slap as he walked, which inevitably woke up Seamus. So, bare feet it was.

He closed the door and decided to check on Harry on his way back to bed.

The four roommates had held a worried conversation earlier that night when they turned out their lights, over the fact that Harry had not yet returned from his meeting with the Headmaster.

"Psssssst."

Neville turned to see Ron, propped up on one elbow, nod his head in the direction of Harry's bed.

Neville peered through the slightly parted drapes and, seeing what he assumed was Harry, turned back and mouthed, "He's asleep."

Satisfied, Ron plopped back down and pulled his pillow over his head.

~SH~

"God, it's cold," Harry pulled the black cashmere sweater he'd found draped across the back of Sev's desk chair tightly around him. Despite sitting next to the roaring fire and the warming charm Dumbledore had cast, and the sweater — he was still freezing.

"Drink this," Dumbledore said pressed the warm cup of tea into the young man's cold hands.

"Thank you Sir,"

The old wizard sat in the opposite chair and watched with concern as Harry took a few sips.

"What's taking her so long?"

"It's only been a few minutes," Dumbledore replied assuredly.

After Severus had fallen asleep, Harry debated whether or not to get help. He knew it would kill Severus to have anyone see him so vulnerable, but Harry also knew that Sev and Dumbledore were close friends. And quite frankly, Harry didn't know what was wrong with Severus or how to deal with it.

"Can you continue now to relay what happened?"

Dumbledore's words barely registered, "I'm sorry Sir … what did you say?"

"You had reached the point where you gave Severus the potions."

"Oh yeah," he said and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry Sir. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"No doubt this event was highly stressful for you, but it is imperative that you relay all you witnessed and heard. It may help us to help Severus.

Harry pulled the sweater more tightly to him and tried to regroup. "After I gave him the potion, he started talking about that dream he always has."

Dumbledore furrowed his brows. "What dream might that be?"

"I suppose 'dream' isn't the right word," Harry tucked his legs up onto the chair, "it's a nightmare and it's really scary."

"A nightmare?" Severus had never shared this with him. "And you say it reoccurs?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed then began to recite the scenes of Severus's nightmare. "It's always the same," he said and closed his eyes. "He's a little boy and he hears someone screaming. He runs out of his room to see who it is, but there's all this mist and he gets scared. So he starts calling for his Mum."

"Excuse me for interrupting, but you said that he calls for his Mum?"

Harry opened his eyes and looked tiredly at Dumbledore, "Sir, in this dream, Sev is just a little boy."

Albus felt a chill run through him, "I didn't realize. Please continue."

"Well, like I said … there's all this screaming and he goes looking for his Mum, but he can't find her. Pretty soon, he gets to the stairs and then … he wakes up."

Albus felt as though he'd missed a step.

"I think he remembers now."

"Remembers what?"

"I'm not sure," Harry whispered as tears that suddenly filled his eyes. "But it has to do with someone named Rosa."

"Named?"

"I think Sev really loved her." Then he finished in a whisper, "But she died."

Dumbledore inhaled a tiny breath of shock. "Dear Merlin. Why has he never mentioned this to me?"

"I don't think even _he_ remembered, at least not all of it … not until tonight."

"Is there anything you haven't mentioned that might help us?"

Harry nodded and discreetly wiped away the tears that had gathered in his eyes. "This isn't part of his dream … it's more like a feeling I have."

"Yes?"

"I don't think Rosa's death was an accident; I think someone killed her and whoever it was, that person was important to Sev." The chill that had plagued him all night was getting worse. "He kept asking … 'why did he do it'?"

"Oh Severus," Dumbledore whispered sympathetically.

Harry pressed his fingers to his temples and grimaced slightly.

"Are you ill?"

"No … I don't know. I haven't been feeling too good."

"Yes, Poppy informed me of your visit to the infirmary. Perhaps you should lie down."

Harry glanced over to the clock; it was just past midnight. "If I do, will you wake me when she comes out?"

Dumbledore tipped his head to the side. It wasn't quite a nod and Harry wasn't certain if the Headmaster had agreed or not, but he wasn't feeling well at all and so he decided to go ahead and lay down on the couch in the library.

He must have dosed off, for no sooner had he closed his eyes but that he suddenly heard hushed voices.

Harry quietly got up and tiptoed over to the door and saw that Madame Pomfrey was now sitting in the chair where he'd been sitting earlier.

"Dehydrated?" asked Albus.

"Yes," Poppy confirmed," and he is physically drained. His readings were quite alarming, but I've taken care of all that and he's resting now." She sighed and then asked, "What did Harry tell you about the way Severus acted, or anything he may have said?"

She pressed her lips together and nodded as Dumbledore relayed the details of the nightmare and Severus' actions. It was as if she had already made a diagnosis, but simply needed the information for confirmation.

"What is it Poppy? What do you think has happened to him?" Albus asked worriedly.

She made a sort of 'tisc' sound as she parted her lips to speak, "Based on your report and Severus' physical condition, I believe that he has suffered an emotional collapse. A nervous breakdown if you will."

Harry felt like he'd just been hit by the Whomping Willow. And even though Madame Pomfrey began a clinical explanation that 'a collapse of this nature could be categorized into varying degrees of severity' and that 'of course an individual can fully recover from such an event,' her words sailed past him as though they were made of wind.

_How could this happen to Sev?_ Harry wondered. Even though he'd told Hermione that Severus wasn't invincible, deep down he had placed Sev in just that position, as someone Harry could always depend upon and count on to be strong.

He found that as he watched Madame Pomfrey speak to Dumbledore, he could no longer hear her voice. An ominous silence reached up and wrapped itself around him, covering him in a gray mist — just like the one in Sev's dream. The last thing Harry remembered before he disappeared into the mist was the sudden jolt as he hit the floor.

~SH~

Voldemort's footfalls echoed up and down the cavernous staircase as he ascended each stone step.

He had already investigated the lower level where he'd discovered a magnificent dungeon and to his delight, it still hosted several old apparatus of torture.

He had then begun his trek upward, working his way up the mighty central staircase and stopping off to explore the four separate wings on each level.

On the third floor he discovered a smaller staircase, narrow and harbored between the west and east wings on the north side of the fortress. Voldemort followed its tantalizing trail to discover two suites of rooms on what turned out to be a secluded forth floor.

No doubt these suites were living quarters and unlike the rest of the edifice; the finishing work here was quite opulent: gilded ceilings, ornately carved wooden doors and solariums of beveled glass. But best of all was a provocative hidden narrow hallway which connected the west suite to the one on the east side.

The words of his wise old friend from Niigata rang in his mind, '_All things happen for a reason.'_

If that annoying Order of the Phoenix hadn't discovered his manor in Ireland, perhaps he never would have made the effort to discover this magnificent Fastness. But now that he had, he would claim it as his own. After all, only two people on the planet could have read the Parseltongue that identified the hidden location of this Fastness, and of those two individuals, only one was a direct descendent of the great Salazar Slytherin.

Voldemort walked over to one of the beveled windows and stared down at the raging torrent below, "I claim this Fastness as mine. It shall be my home and the headquarters for my Death Eaters."

He then inhaled a lungful of the stale cold air and drew it within his being, as if baptizing himself with a breath of the ancient Fastness.

~SH~

"Did you have a good visit?" Dumbledore asked Channon Jackson as he walked into the Headmaster's office.

"Yes we did. But for your information, Harry isn't in the infirmary, he's up in the tower."

"He is?" Dumbledore's eyebrows peaked over the rims of his glasses. "I didn't know Poppy had released him."

"Apparently just before I arrived. He's resting up in his dorm room now; Ron and Hermione are staying with him."

"How is he?"

Channon shook his head, "He's so pale Albus … and weak. Whatever he had sure took its toll."

"Thank goodness we caught it before it before it spread to the other Halfbloods."

"And you say that Severus is also ill?"

Dumbledore nodded. "We believe it was Severus who was first exposed when he was away from the castle. Then he apparently passed it on to Harry in one of their training sessions."

The old wizard turned away and walked toward his desk. He hated lying to Channon, but there was no choice. As it stood only Dumbledore, Poppy, Harry and Severus and Minerva knew the truth regarding the breakdown and the apparent connection between the two wizards.

Poppy had determined that Harry was experiencing a reflection of Severus' symptoms. The only possible explanation they found plausible was that some sort of connection had formed the night of Harry's transformation when his magic enveloped Severus.

"I want to thank you for taking over this project," Albus said as he collected the rolled parchment from his desk and handed it to Channon. "As I stated previously, if you could decipher that one remaining sequence we'll be able to break the wards surrounding Voldemort manor. I wish I could continue, but with my upcoming commitments I simply won't be able to."

"Don't give it another thought Albus. I know that time is of the essence and to be honest, I appreciate the opportunity to help."

Channon's expression turned to one of concern, "Will you please keep me apprised of Harry's progress?"

"I'll arrange for Poppy to send word to you." Albus smiled and then escorted Channon to the Floo, "However you might consider Owling him yourself."

"You're right," he shrugged uncomfortably. "This summer slipped by so quickly, I don't know where the time went." Channon released a tense sigh. "I had promised him I'd write, but I seemed to have come up short."

"Then why not consider this a lesson learned."

"I do value our friendship." Channon nodded his head as if he had made a decision. "I'm going to make more of an effort to keep in contact with him."

"I do know that Harry admires you and I'm certain your effort would mean a great deal to him."

Albus smiled and they shook hands good bye, then Channon Floo'd back to the Ministry.

~SH~

After Channon departed, Dumbledore went to check on Severus. But no sooner had he stepped from the Floo in Severus' sitting room, when he heard a tense discussion coming from the bedroom.

"As usual Poppy, you are overreacting. A day of rest and I'll be fine."

"Well if I'm overreacting then you're being foolishly cavalier with regards to your own well being."

"What happened was simply a matter of overwork and dehydration," the tiredness in his voice countered his claim. "Now please stop your touting and leave me to rest. I have classes to teach tomorrow."

Poppy was about to hit the roof when Dumbledore strolled into the room. "Ah Severus, I can tell you're feeling better."

Severus glanced briefly to the doorway then returned his attention to his latest copy of Potions Compendium Monthly.

"See if you can talk some sense into him," Poppy hissed as she exited the bedroom.

Dumbledore took a seat next to the bed and waited quietly as Severus slowly flipped through the pages.

"Haven't you anything better to do with your time than to sit here and watch me read?"

Albus remained silent and waited.

It worked. After a short amount of time, Severus tossed the periodical to the foot of the bed. "All right, what is it you want?"

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and pondered how best to proceed. Severus was in denial of the emotional component of his collapse, and his flat out refusal to see a counselor had left Albus in a difficult position. The entire incident, of course, needed to remain under wraps and so Albus was faced with the decision to either try to help Severus himself and risk doing more harm than good, or do nothing and allow this recent realization to slip from Severus' conscious mind and recess back to the depths where it had hidden for so many years.

"Would you answer a question for me?"

"If I can," Severus tensed.

"Who was Rosa?"

It was a good thing Severus was lying down. His breath caught for a moment and all the color drained from his face. "How do you know about her?"

"Tell me Severus, do you remember what transpired the other night when you returned to the castle?"

Severus laced his fingers together and busily began to twiddle his thumbs, "Not clearly."

"Harry found you. You told him of your realization." Dumbledore warmed the cup of tea sitting on the nightstand and handed it to Severus. It contained a dose of Draught of Peace, which Poppy had prescribed for Severus to take for the next week or so.

He had been correct that night in realizing that he needed the draught to counteract the effects of his emotional state. And the fact that he received it so promptly had stopped the process from causing any further damage.

"Please tell me, who was Rosa?"

"She was my nanny," Severus whispered as he stared blankly at the bed-cover.

"No doubt she was very important to you."

"Apparently," he regrouped and huffed. "This is all quite embarrassing."

"You mustn't think that way."

Severus shook his head slightly, "The fact that a House Elf has caused me so much turmoil … and now this."

Albus leaned forward, "She cared for you when you were but a child; we are all so malleable and sensitive at that stage of life."

Severus nodded but remained quiet for a long time. Now that the memory of her death had resurfaced, he had begun to remember other memories. Little things like the way she was always there for him when he needed her, how she would play games with him, sing to him and take care of him when he was sick.

"And obviously this was something that you needed to address; your reoccurring nightmare speaks to that fact."

"I suppose I have Harry to thank for that."

Albus winced, "Do not blame him Severus. I asked him for information. We needed to understand the situation in order to help you." Not wanting the conversation to stray, he readdressed the topic of Rosa. "Harry also mentioned that you kept asking 'Why did he do that to her?'

Severus had been about to take a sip of his tea but stopped — suddenly, then set his cup back down which clinked on the saucer as his hands started to tremble.

"Let me take that for you." Albus took the cup and saucer. "Who did it? Who was _he_?"

"My father." Severus' entire being was now trembling. "He and my mother were arguing, as they often did. But this time he began to hit her and she screamed. That was when I awoke."

"Rosa was with you?"

Severus nodded. "She always sat by my bed and sang to me … until I fell asleep." It took him a moment to continue, "I ran out of my room to see why my mother was screaming. Rosa followed me and when she saw what was happening, she ran over to try to stop him."

Severus wrapped his arms around himself, "He grabbed her … he grabbed Rosa," his voice hitched, "then he threw her down the stairs."

"Oh Severus, I am so sorry." Albus moved over to sit on the bed and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "What made you finally remember this?"

Without revealing the violation, Severus relayed his activities during those two harrowing days; how he had worked feverishly, barely eaten, had gone from one safe hold to the next taking care of the prisoners and all of this with no time to rest.

Severus suddenly gasped, "Dear Merlin, I forgot to report what's happened."

"Are you referring to the prison break and the escaped Death Eaters?"

Severus nodded in shock. "How could I have forgotten this? Why haven't you mentioned it?"

"My dear friend, I have had far more important matters on my mind then prison breaks and Death Eater activities." Albus smiled kindly, "Please try to continue: what happened to spur your repressed memory of Rosa?"

Severus withdrew slightly from Albus' kindness, "It happened the second night. I was attending to Dolohov's wounds when I heard a commotion out in the hallway. I went to investigate and just when I stepped outside the door, I saw Malfoy kick one of the elves down the stairs."

Severus stopped and stared out across his bedroom. "I don't remember anything after that. I don't even know how I got back to the castle."

Albus again offered him the tea, "Please finish this. It will help."

"Yes, you're right." Severus' hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold onto the cup, but he finished the tea and lay back against his pillows. "It is difficult … trying to deal with all of this."

"Listen to me Severus," Albus said and took the now empty cup. "I know of a place, a very peaceful place. It is here on the castle grounds and is protected by a Fidelius Charm. I believe it would be an ideal place for you to recover and if I may, I would like to accompany you." Dumbledore's expression spoke of his concern and compassion for his dear, dear friend. "We will have ample time to talk through all that is troubling you."

Severus nodded his agreement, then after a few moments he requested softly, "I would like to see Harry though, before we leave."

"I hope you don't harbor any ill will toward him for telling me about …"

"No, it's not that," Severus interrupted. "I simply wish to thank him for helping me."

It was obvious to Albus that Severus' excuse was a pretext, but he decided not to press the matter. "Very well then, I'll make the necessary arrangements."

~SH~

Harry stared up at the Snitch as it flew wildly round and round the warded area over his bed.

After Channon's visit and hearing about the efforts in trying to decipher the wards around Voldemort's manor, Harry had decided to try his own hand at creating a ward.

He'd been lying on his back for nearly two days now, under stern orders from Madame Pomfrey to 'stay in bed or else.' Frankly, he didn't have the energy to do much of anything, but instead of having a good rest, he'd spent most that time worrying about Severus.

Neville came in and stopped in his tracks at the sight of the frantic Snitch flying around in the confined ball of space. "Cool Harry. How did you do that?"

"I made a ward," he replied flatly. Making the ward had at least gotten his mind off Severus for a little while.

"Wow, I can barely manage a Shield charm, and you're making wards." He sighed then moved toward the bed for a closer look.

Harry noticed that Neville was a tad upset. "What's wrong? You're not miffed about my ward, are you?"

"No it's not that." Neville sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's girls."

"Girls? As in - Luna?"

"That's the one," Neville said and glanced up at the flashes of gold above him.

"Did you two have a row?"

Neville took a deep breath and grit his teeth, "Luna wants to do it."

Harry gasped slightly with surprise. "And?"

Neville's worried expression turned frantic. "How can I? I've never … What if she realizes …"

"Hold on Neville," Harry sat up straighter. "Why are you getting so worked up? It's not like she's a pro or anything."

"How do you know?" Neville asked accusingly.

"I'm just guessing. I mean … we're talking about Luna, right?"

"I can't think of where to go though. If I bring her up here, everyone will know." He bit his lips then looked to Harry. "Do you know of a good spot?"

Harry was about to mention the potting shed when they heard a knock at the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's Professor McGonagall. I wish to speak with you Harry."

"Shit," Neville jumped up as Harry released the ward and the Snitch immediately began to fly around the room.

"Um … just a minute Professor."

He quickly summoned the Snitch and sent it to his trunk. "Okay Professor, come on in."

"Mr. Longbottom, would you please excuse us a moment?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Neville nearly sprinted from the room.

McGonagall waited for the door to close before commencing. "Harry, the Headmaster would like you to report to his office tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. Will you be able to manage, or shall I accompany you?"

"Why?" Harry immediately suspected the worse. "Has something happened?"

She explained that the Headmaster would be leaving for a week or so and that she would be in charge while he was gone. "Perhaps as Head Boy, the Headmaster simply wishes to discuss the situation with you."

"Did he say anything about Professor Snape? How he's doing?"

"I am told he is much better." She brushed back the few stray hairs that had worked their way lose from her bun. "To be perfectly honest Potter, the Headmaster is accompanying Professor Snape to someplace where he can recuperate."

"Accompanying him?" He sat up, "Where are they going?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you." McGonagall gave him that 'now, now — let's try to behave' look she'd sometimes give the students, which irked Harry to no end.

"Yes Ma'am," he acquiesced and sank back into his pillow.

~SH~

The following day, while the majority of students were in class, Harry made his way to the Headmaster's tower. Even though he had regained quite a bit of his strength, the trek across the seventh floor had left him feeling as though he'd jogged around the lake — twice.

The spiral staircase seemed especially steep to Harry and he was nearly out of breath by the time he reached the top step.

"Enter," replied Dumbledore when Harry knocked and he opened the door to the sight of the old wizard standing at the entry to the annex. He smiled at Harry, pointed to the opposite side of his office and then exited and closed the door behind him.

Confused, Harry peered around the door and saw Severus sitting in a squishy chair near the far window; he looked pale and fragile and was wearing that cashmere sweater Harry had worn the night of the breakdown.

"Sev!" Harry called out and he hurried over, wanting only to wrap his arms around Sev. But as he neared the chair, Severus stiffened and turned slightly away.

Harry stopped where he was in response to the unexpected rebuff. He stood and stared at Severus who busied himself with looking out the window.

"Hi Sev," he tried again as he tentatively knelt down beside the chair.

Severus glanced quickly to Harry but then looked back out the window. "Thank you for coming."

Harry looked over to see if he was missing something outside, a Thestral flying by perhaps; there wasn't anything but blue sky. "Um ... you're welcome." He didn't know what else to say after the awkward greeting.

"I wish to apologize for my actions the other night."

Harry laid his hand lightly on Sev's forearm. "What are you talking about? Why are you apologizing?"

Severus turned toward Harry, but wouldn't look directly at him. "Because my actions were inexcusable."

Harry gently slid his hand down to take a hold of Severus' hand. "You were sick ... that's all."

Severus looked to their clasped hands but didn't respond.

"Please Sev." Harry reached up and lightly touched Severus' jaw, trying to get him to turn and look at him.

And when he did, his expression grew tense as he finally saw Harry's face. "You're so pale."

"Look who's talking."

"They told me that my condition has had an effect upon you." He paused as he took in the dark circles under Harry's eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about me Sev. I'll be fine … as long as you are."

Harry leaned tentatively forward and when Severus didn't back away, he went ahead and wrapped his arms around the frail man. The he pressed his cheek against Sev's, "I've been so worried. When Madame Pomfrey explained what happened to you, I think I passed out. And now they're telling me that you're going away." Harry tightened his hold. "Where are you going?"

The sound of worry in Harry's voice tore at Severus' heart and his precarious condition. He leaned into the strong embrace and felt Harry's love surround him. Immediately, his experience of being injured on Samhain sprang to his mind.

"Do you recall last year when the Dark Lord attacked you?

The sudden change of topic took Harry by surprise. "What? Uh, sure I remember, but what does that …?"

"Something happened that night and I've meant to ask you about it."

"Ask me about what?"

"Do you …" He wasn't quite sure how to phrase what happened. "Did you come to me?"

Harry froze. "Are you're talking about when you got hurt?" he asked and pulled back only just enough so that he could look into Sev's dark eyes. "Did that really happen? I thought it was a dream."

"Please tell me what you experienced."

Harry lifted his hand to Severus' cheek. "I felt you, when you tried to help me Occlude. Then my shield shot out everywhere and I knew you'd been hurt." He ghosted his hand down and pressed his palm flat against Severus' chest, just as he had that night of his transformation. "You went away … so I followed you."

"Why have you never mentioned this?"

"I didn't think it was real," Harry shrugged. "I thought it was a dream."

Severus looked down at Harry's hand as it pressed against him. "I felt you." Severus said and leaned his forehead against Harry's. "The first thing I remembered was darkness. It was so dark and I felt lost. Then I felt something wrap itself around me. It made me feel safe."

Harry gasped a quiet breath of surprise.

"I thought I would never feel anything like that again."

"Then feel me now," Harry said and embraced Severus again. "I'm right here. I'm holding onto you and I'll never let go." Harry whispered in Sev's ear, "Please let me come and take care of you."

The thought of Harry's strength and love was so tempting. And even though he felt terribly scattered, he realized that what he needed was exactly the opposite.

"I want to be with you Harry, but now is not the time. You are also ill. You need to recover, as do I."

"But I'm afraid I'll lose you."

"I'll be fine. Albus is coming with me."

Harry was trying his utmost to hold himself together, for Sev's sake. "Okay, but you gotta promise me you'll come back. All right? Promise."

"I promise." This emotional discussion had exhausted Severus and he laid his head on Harry's shoulder.

Harry tightened his embrace. He wanted to tell Sev that he loved him and that he needed him, but somehow to do that just now didn't seem fair. So instead he took a big shaky breath, pushed down his need and his tears, then gently ran his hand through that long black hair.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. You just get better, okay?" He spoke assuredly and squeezed Severus tightly. "Just remember how this feels, and know that even though we're apart, I'll be there with you, and I'll be waiting here for you when you come back."

~SH~


	28. While You Were Gone

**28. While You Were Gone**

Harry watched the small pink rose rotate as he rolled its delicate stem back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. It had arrived with the Wednesday morning post, folded within a blank sheet of parchment. There was no signature or return address, but he knew who had sent it.

All week long, he'd been worried sick over Severus: what might be happening to him, whether he was he getting better, _would_ he get better, would he still be interested in Harry after all that had happened.

"Budge over."

Hermione's voice startled him; he hid the tiny rose between two pages of the book he'd been reading and then nodded toward the opposite side of the library table.

"Sit over there."

"No, I want to sit next to you."

"Oh for the love of …" He'd barely gotten his book-bag out of the way before she sat down next to him. "Do you mind Hermione? I want some privacy."

"Harry Potter, you've been avoiding us all week: getting up early, coming back to the tower late at night, disappearing between classes."

She touched his hand, the one covering the book. "What's going on? Does it have something to do with Professor Snape?"

Harry immediately cast a Muffliato, "Be careful! Someone could've heard you!"

"Just answer my question."

"You heard the announcement, same as everyone else. Professor Snape caught some rare kind of flu and has to stay in his quarters."

"Oh stop with the Professor business; I know you call him Sev and I don't buy this flu excuse, not for one second." She noticed the small, partially hidden book. "And I don't believe that Dumbledore is at a conference either."

Harry made to slide the book into his bag but Hermione quickly Accio'd it into her awaiting hand. "What's this?"

"Hey, give that back."

She read the title: 'The Journey From Breakdown To Recovery.'

Harry snatched the book and shoved it into his book-bag then turned and glared daggers at Hermione. "Don't you _ever_ say _anything_ about this to _anyone_, or I'll never talk to you again."

She hadn't seen him this worked up since that night in the Shrieking Shack, when he yelled at Sirius. "What's wrong? What kind of breakdown is the title referring to?"

"You're awfully nosey Hermione, y'know that? It's none of your business!"

She was taken aback by his harsh words. "I'm sorry! It's just that I'm worried about you." She tried to hold his hand again but he snatched it away.

Hermione sat frozen with her hand hovering above where Harry's had just been. Obviously she had crossed a line, but she also knew that he needed a friend.

"Listen, I said I was sorry. I had no business looking at your book. I apologize."

Harry turned away from her. The truth of the matter was he did need a friend; he needed someone to talk to because he was worried sick.

The only communication he'd received all week was the rose. He'd finally gone to Madame Pomfrey to see if perhaps she could give him an update on Severus's progress, but she said she couldn't discuss the situation with him because of doctor/patient confidentiality.

"Hermione … do you know anything about doctor/patient confidentiality?"

"What does that have to do with …?"

"Would you for _once_ in your life just answer me and not ask any questions?"

He had turned back to face her and she could see the anxiety in his expression. "Oh Harry." She wanted to give him a big hug, but she knew that Harry wouldn't stand for it.

"Just tell me what it means."

"Well, doctor/patient confidentiality is the principle that states that an individual or institution cannot reveal data to a third party."

Harry stared at her a moment but then looked away, "That's why she won't talk to me," he mumbled to himself, "she thinks I'm just a third party."

"Who thinks you're a third party? What are you talking about?"

Harry grabbed both of her upper arms in frustration. "I - can't – tell - you! Can't you understand that?"

His actions shocked her and she leaned back defensively, "Fine! You've made your point, but whatever is going on is making you crazy. Look at you! You're a mess. You've got to talk to someone."

He started to repeat that he couldn't talk to anyone, but she cut him off. "There is someone you could talk to, someone that by law could never repeat a word of what you said to anyone."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

Hermione sat tall and finally managed to finally take hold of his hands, "Helena."

~SH~

Solomon Priestly stepped from one of the spacious commuter Floos that lined the far wall in the Atrium and was immediately surrounded by the chaotic hustle and bustle of the numerous Ministry workers Flooing home after a long day's work.

He inhaled a deep breath of the familiar scents and thought, _Home_.

"Solomon old boy, I thought you were up north, teaching."

The tall wizard turned in response to the familiar voice. "Ah Merritt, good to see you," and he wondered for what seemed like the hundredth time what had ever possessed him to think he could survive a year surrounded by students, "I'm only here this evening for a meeting."

"What a pity; the place just isn't the same without you."

That comment only ground home the fact that he should have never acquiesced to Dumbledore's plea to teach.

"So? How is Hogwarts?" asked the stodgy old wizard.

A myriad of adjectives sailed through Priestly's mind, and as much as he would have loved to stand there and bash the entire nightmare he'd been living the past month, he knew that if he didn't hurry, he'd be late for his meeting. "It's all right, I suppose. You know, I haven't been there in decades, but the castle still looks the same. Not much has changed," he responded despondently. "Listen, I really must get going or I'll be late."

"You're a better man than I, Solomon." His coworker waved then toddled off to the Floo. "Don't be a stranger!"

Solomon nodded then headed for the annex. He hadn't gone but thirty feet when another voice called out.

"Priestly, is that you?"

Bathed for a moment in his perceived apparent notoriety, Priestly turned and was suddenly taken down a notch by the approach of the auburn haired Eurasian. "Oh, Hello Channon."

"What brings you to the Ministry?"

"I'm here for the meeting," Solomon clarified.

"I had a feeling that might be the case. That's where I'm headed."

It was only now that Priestly noted the warded casement clutched in the young Unspeakable's hand.

"Is that it?"

Channon's only acknowledgement was a smile and one raised eyebrow. "Come on, we'd better hurry or we'll be late."

"I doubt there's much they could discuss until you arrive."

Channon looked down at the parchment he held, "You have a point." Then he nodded his head in the direction of the annex and the two wizards fell into step as they headed down the length of the Atrium.

"So how's the semester going for you?" asked Channon.

"I suppose all right."

"You don't sound very convincing."

"Perhaps," Solomon left his vague response — hanging.

Channon tried to fathom how Solomon, or anyone for that matter, couldn't absolutely love spending time at Hogwarts teaching Defense to all of those children.

"You're not enjoying it?" he asked incredulously.

Priestly glanced at the young wizard beside him. For a long while now, he'd been in awe of Channon Jackson — the youngest Unspeakable to be taken into the department in centuries. But the fact that he was indeed _young_ just didn't sit well with Priestly.

"I suppose I'm simply not accustomed to spending much time around … children."

"Well, at least you get a chance to work with Harry," Channon added brightly. "It must be a treat for you to work with him in tactics."

"Not really." Solomon slowed his pace, "Actually, I'm not working with Mr. Potter."

Channon fell suddenly behind and Solomon turned to see the young Unspeakable staring at him wide-eyed.

"What do you mean?" He held his hands out to his sides. "But you're his instructor."

Priestly released a slow breath through pursed lips, "No, I'm not. Albus and Severus are his instructors."

"And why is that?"

Priestly dropped his gaze. "Mr. Potter and I got off to a bad start. I suppose I didn't handle the situation as well as I could have."

"And?" Channon pressed.

"Albus modified Mr. Potter's and my teaching arrangement," Priestly finished with a soft voice.

"I see." _Why didn't Harry mention any of this during my visit?_ Channon wondered. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

It was Kingsley Shacklebolt standing in the doorway to the conference room waving at them to 'hurry up.'

Channon bit his lips, vacillating whether or not to interfere. "Solomon, would you mind staying after? I'd like to continue our conversation."

All of this went against his very grain. Solomon Priestly did things by the book. Using this method had always worked perfectly for him. It was only these blasted children, and that incident with Potter that didn't fit into his ordered approach.

"Solomon?"

"I don't know what good would come of discussing it."

"Perhaps you're right," Channon placated, "but I'd still appreciate just a few minutes of your time."

Solomon glanced over at Shacklebolt whom was waving more insistently now. "Oh all right."

~SH~

They entered the small conference room just as Shacklebolt sat down at one end of a large square Birch-wood table. Situated to his right was Nymphadora Tonks and John Dawlish; Solomon immediately went to join the two Aurors.

Across from them sat Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley and his son Bill. The only seat left was the one on the side opposite Kingsley Shacklebolt. Channon walked over and sat there.

With everyone situated, Shacklebolt pointed his wand to close the door, then warded it and cast a Muffliato.

"Thank you all for coming. I first want to extend the Minister's apologies for not being able to attend this meeting. He is rather engaged with matters regarding the recent escape from Azkaban."

He glanced around to all those assembled; no one seemed to mind the absence of the Minister. "Right then, you all know why you're here …"

"Excuse me Kingsley," interrupted Arthur, "but where is Dumbledore?"

"Forgive me for the oversight, Dumbledore was unable to attend this meeting due to a personal commitment, but he does send his regards and his vote of confidence that we will be able to handle matters."

The buirdly, black wizard looked at the expectant faces, "Now if there aren't any other concerns, I'd like to address the matter at hand." He focused his gaze on Jackson.

"Jackson? Will you do the honors?"

Channon cleared his throat, removed the precious parchment from its encasement and then stood to address those assembled.

Ninety minutes later, all in attendance were fully briefed as to the location and layout of the manor. They had then formulated and settled upon a plan of operations to seize Voldemort's manor. With the wards now deciphered there was nothing to stop them from mounting a full on attack.

Shacklebolt would act as Incident Commander and liaison to the Minister. Tonks would head up the Logistics section with Dawlish as back-up and Priestly as tactics advisor. Remus was assigned the post of Operations Leader with Bill heading the Ground Support unit. Arthur gladly took on the job of organizing the Support Branch.

With leaders now assigned to each division, they simply needed to pick a date.

"So when can all of you have your troops assembled and in place?"

A hum filled the room as the Aurors and Order members discussed the logistics involved, then they looked tentatively toward each other from the opposite sides of the table.

"In two days?" offered Remus.

The three Aurors nodded their heads. "We can do that."

"All right then," confirmed Shacklebolt, "have your troops assembled at the assigned location in the Glenballyeamon valley, at 0900 hours this Sunday. Agreed?"

"Agreed," they all replied.

~SH~

Harry closed the door and leaned heavily against it as he stared at Helena, whom had already arrived and was sitting in her usual chair.

She always took the one that faced away from the window, saying it had something about daylight being unforgivably revealing. None of that made sense to him, but the sight of her blue eyes and compassionate smile washed over him like a panacea.

"I fixed you a cup of tea," she nodded to the side table as she hid her reaction to his appearance, for Harry looked utterly frazzled: pale, and with dark circles under his eyes.

He dropped his book-bag next to the door then walked over and sank heavily into the chair facing the window.

As she watched him sip some tea, Helena wondered what on earth could have possibly happened since she'd last seen him.

"Hard week?"

"I guess you could say that." He set down the cup, leaned back in the chair and sighed, "I don't know where to start."

Helena smiled. "Just pick one."

"I knew you were going to say that."

She waited.

"Okay," he crossed his arms tightly to him. "Scared to death."

That was more then she'd expected, "All right. So what is it that has you scared to death?"

"First, I have to ask you something." He unfolded his arms and sat ramrod straight, as if he were bracing himself to tackle something monumental. "Is what I say to you ...?" He tried again, "Is it true that you can't say anything about …?" This was proving harder to do then he'd expected. "Have you ever heard about doctor/patient confidentiality?"

Her eyebrows peaked with surprise. "A time or two … yes."

"Hermione told me that you can't repeat anything I tell you, but I didn't believe her."

"She is partially correct," Helena said and adjusted the folds in her blue robes. "Anything you tell me in our sessions is confidential, as long as what you reveal does not involve an illegal action. Other than that, I am legally bound not to discuss the content of our conversations with any person or any institution … ever."

His emotions began to well and surfaced in his expression, and it seemed to Helena as if Harry was about to shatter.

"What's wrong Harry?"

"I'm afraid I'll lose him," he said desperately.

"Lose who?"

"That person I told you about."

"Are you referring to the person in your dream? The one you spoke of a few months ago?"

"Yeah, that's him." Harry said nervously and folded his arms again.

"But, what's happened?"

"He got sick … and had to go away."

That sounded terribly similar to what had happened to Anthony. No wonder Harry was distraught.

"Was he injured? Was there another attack?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Then what?"

Harry cast a ward around where they sat and then peered cautiously at her. "You promise you can't repeat any of this."

"Not a word. What you say to me is confidential. I would never … I could never repeat a single word of it."

He remained silent for a moment but then finally confessed, "It's Severus."

"As in Snape?"

Harry nodded.

The room was silent, but for the sound of Helena as she quietly closed her notepad and slipped it into the outside pocket of her valise.

"All right Harry," she spoke in a tone of quiet strength, "let's start at the beginning."

~SH~

Remus waited anxiously as he stood outside Voldemort's manor.

Hidden by a Disillusionment charm, as was everyone in the strike force, he was waiting for the go-ahead signal and when it finally came, they immediately began their campaign against the edifice.

Divided into groups, the Aurors and Order members Apparated simultaneously into various rooms of the manor; nearly three dozen wizards and witches in total infiltrated every corner of the massive building.

Remus headed the group that Apparated into the drawing room. They stood in a circle with their backs to each other and their wands drawn — ready to do battle.

"What the hell?" he stared dumbfounded at the empty room.

"What's going on?" rang a voice from the foyer.

"Is this a joke or something?" echoed another voice from the second floor hallway.

After a few seconds, Remus relaxed his stance and indicated for his team to do likewise.

A few moments later, Bill Weasley sauntered through the double doors and stated sarcastically, "I think we're a tad late."

~SH~


	29. Welcome Back

**29.** **Welcome Back**

"Hey Luna! You got any more Chocolate Frogs?"

Luna's Spectraspecs slipped down her nose when she turned around, "Sorry Ron … no I don't. But you can have my two remaining delicious Canary Creams."

"That'll do. Give'm here; I'm starving."

A throng of students filed past Luna, Neville, Ron, Hermione and Harry while they waited on the Ravenclaw as she filed though her purse.

They'd all just watched the first Quidditch match of the season and were making their way back up to the castle. It had been a long match that had gone into overtime — and the supper hour, and in which Ravenclaw had defeated Hufflepuff by a slim margin.

"If you eat anymore you won't have room for dinner," Hermione admonished.

Harry took advantage of the opportunity and shot an inquisitive glance to Neville.

It had been more than a week since they'd had their conversation regarding you know what, and Harry was curious to know if any progress had been made.

Neville answered by means of a blush and quick nod.

Harry winked.

Ron got his candy and they continued their trek.

"What did you think of Cho?" asked Ron. "She must have practiced over the summer 'cause she's definitely gotten better."

Harry shrugged. "Dunno; her speed's always been her weak spot … still is if you ask me."

Ron shot a sideways glance at his best friend. "So what did Pomfrey say? Can you start practices again?"

"Yeah, I already told you."

"No you didn't," Ron retorted. He'd been rather worried over the fact that Harry hadn't practiced with the team all week and their first match was the following weekend.

"Well, I thought I did. Sorry."

"No worries. I'm just glad you're better."

"Me too," Harry sighed with relief but for a different reason: he knew that if he was feeling better, than Severus would be as well.

Argus Filch stood at the top of the front steps and called Harry over, "The Headmaster wants to see you."

Harry gasped, "He's back?"

"Course he's back … how else could he ask to see you?"

Harry stared in surprise. He wanted to ask if Severus had also returned but knew he couldn't.

"Get a move on! He's a waitin for ya."

Harry turned to his friends. "I'll catch up with you later."

"Good luck," Hermione called out as he sprinted into the castle.

"Good luck with what?" asked Ron.

Hermione punted, "With whatever it is the Headmaster wants to see him about."

Ron creased his brow then gave up and just shook his head. He loved Hermione but he would never understand her. "Come on, let's go eat."

~SH~

Severus laid his hands on the long central work table and closed his eyes.

_One, two, three, four._ He timed his inhalation in a steady pace then exhaled in a likewise manner. _One, two, three, four__._

He'd come across this exercise in the book he read the past week, The Journey From Breakdown to Recovery, as a way for an individual to steady their nerves.

He opened his eyes and looked once again around the laboratory.

It was indeed a wonderful room: large with ample counter space and storage cupboards, not one but two laboratory sinks, and new cauldrons (including one of those platinum ones he'd been wanting for quite a while now); but the room was in disarray and in his current state - the disorder was particularly offensive.

The vast supply of ingredients from the old laboratory at the Dark Lord's manor, had been piled into boxes that now sat atop the work counters. It would take days, perhaps weeks to get it sorted out and stocked into the cupboards.

Severus dragged a hand through his hair as he walked over and opened the one window at the far end of the room. He leaned his head out and inhaled a deep breath.

The view was magnificent; the roar rumbling up from the thunderous river below was enough to still one's heart, and the air — it smelled so clean and fresh.

"Impressive … is it not?"

Severus turned in surprise at the sound of the Dark Lord's voice and quickly bowed.

"I apologize my Lord, I didn't hear you enter."

"No matter," Voldemort strolled casually into the room. "You may rise."

Severus did so and quickly closed the window.

"What do you think of the room I have chosen for your laboratory?" Voldemort asked as he held his hands outward while looking rather pleased with himself.

"It is truly outstanding, my Lord."

"I wanted you to have the very best."

Severus bowed. "Thank you."

Voldemort began to walk slowly down the length of the central work table. "Now what is this I hear of you being ill?"

"I apologize my Lord … it won't happen again."

The dark wizard stopped and looked curiously at Severus, "Explain."

"I overworked myself taking care of the survivors of the escape. I neglected to eat or take in enough fluids," Severus swallowed and paused his explanation momentarily, "which in turn led to dehydration and caused a metabolic imbalance in my system."

"And now?" pressed Voldemort.

"I am much better, my Lord."

Voldemort considered the man standing before him. Severus was pale, even more so than usual, and he seemed the slightest bit — frangible. Malfoy had corroborated the fact that Severus had worked ceaselessly, tending to the needs of the escaped prisoners, but Voldemort wondered if perhaps his interlude with his favorite Potions Master may have played a part in his current condition.

If it had been anyone else — Voldemort wouldn't have given a damn. But the truth of the matter was that he needed Severus, and he needed him healthy.

"But you are not fully healed; I can see that."

Severus looked down in response.

Voldemort turned and began to walk back toward the door. "You took remarkable care of me last year when I was ill and I insist that you extend to yourself the same consideration."

He stopped at the door then turned. "I want you to take a few days to regain your strength; you are no good to me sick and frail." He opened the door. "After that you may see to the assemblage of my laboratory, but do not overtax yourself."

Severus bowed deeply. "Yes my Lord."

The door clicked closed after which Severus straightened up and stared at it in disbelief that the Dark Lord had shown him such favor.

~SH~

"Summoned?" Harry whispered in shock.

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed and then held out a small envelope, "He wanted me to give this to you."

_Always maintain your composure_, Severus' counsel echoed in his mind while at the same time Harry's own inner voice wanted to shout at the Headmaster for letting Severus go off to God knows where — when he was supposed to be recuperating.

"When was he summoned?" Harry asked as casually as he could manage.

"This afternoon," Dumbledore said and then handed him the note. "I must ask you to read it here in my office, after which I will have to destroy it. I'm certain you understand why."

Harry stared down at the small cream envelope.

"You can read it in the annex if you wish some privacy."

He did. "Thank you Sir." And without another word, Harry walked to the side chamber, closed the door behind him and immediately tore open the envelope.

~o~

_Dear Harry, _

_As you must know by now, I have been summoned by the Dark Lord. Word reached us of the failed attempt on the manor, and so this call does not come unexpected. It is imperative that I go and do what I can to discover the whereabouts of his new headquarters. _

_The time away has been therapeutic for me and I am much improved. _

_I will send word to you upon my return. Try not to worry. _

_S. _

~o~

The note was too short, but at least it was something and Harry was touched that Sev would take the time to write it while his Dark Mark burned.

He ran his fingers over the beautiful, looping penmanship and then read through the note a couple more times. He didn't want to leave it, this communication from Severus, and didn't want it to be destroyed; even so, he knew there was no choice.

Dumbledore was waiting for Harry when he exited the annex, and he pointed to a small silver plate resting atop his desk.

The teen walked over and placed the missive on the plate then stepped away and watched as the old wizard cast an intense blue flame that devoured the missive in seconds.

Nothing remained of Severus' note and the small silver plate sat once again pristine and shone a light on the awkward moment that now ensued.

_Did Sev tell Dumbledore about us?_ wondered Harry. He was tempted to ask but then thought wiser of it. "Was there anything else Sir?"

"No, that was all." Dumbledore felt badly for Harry and considered opening a discussion with the young man, but Severus had asked specifically for Dumbledore to respect and have faith in his ability to handle this matter — this relationship between he and Harry.

And so instead he smiled warmly. "Try not to worry Harry; Severus is very experienced in these matters."

_I think Sev did tell him._ "Yes Sir."

~SH~

Crabbe joined Goyle as soon as his guard shift ended, then they Apparated into town and headed straight for the Hogs Head.

"Blimey Greg, that's boring stuff."

"Yeah, but it's a far sight better than sitting in that cell; I thought we'd never get out of there."

They turned the corner and entered the tavern. "Merlin, this ale is gonna taste good."

"Too right," agreed Vince as they sidled up to the bar, ordered their drinks then took a seat in a dark booth at the very back.

So much had happened in the past ten days: the prison break from Azkaban, receiving their Dark Marks and becoming junior Death Eaters, the new Headquarters and their new positions as reception guards.

They felt like real adults, what with their little apartment just outside of town, being real Death Eaters and not having to go to school.

"Hey … who's that fellow? I think I've seen him before," asked Crabbe.

"Who?"

"The bloke sittin' over there in the corner."

Goyle slipped his tongue just under his upper lip as he contemplated the identity of the stranger. "Wait a minute … I know who he is."

He then proceeded to explain that the wizard in question was a Ministry official by the name of Solomon Priestly and that he was teaching Defense at Hogwarts this year.

"You're winding me up."

"Nah, it's true."

"Well then, what the buggery fuck is he doin' sittin' here in a bar on a school night?"

"Who cares."

Crabbe took a couple more sips of his ale, then he set down his tankard as his eyes grew wide with excitement. "Hold on — I just got an idea how we can score some points and maybe get promoted."

"Yeah?" drooled Goyle. "How?"

Crabbe kept one eye on his intended target as he whispered to Greg, "Have you ever tried to cast an Imperius curse?"

~SH~

Harry slunk onto the bench and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Where the hell've y'been?" asked Ron.

Harry swallowed that blessed first sip, "I went for a jog."

It was obvious he'd just come down from the showers as he still smelled of soap and his towel dried hair appeared particularly chaotic.

"Looks like you should have slept in."

"Yeah, well … whatever."

"Nearly Headless Nick was looking for you," said Hermione from behind her edition of The Daily Prophet.

"What did he want?" Harry managed to ask and yawn simultaneously.

"He didn't say," Hermione finally set down the paper and took a look at him. "Bad night?"

"Couldn't sleep."

Harry had lain awake for hours worrying about Severus. Then when he finally did doze off, he kept having dreams about fortresses and people being put under the Imperious curse.

At least the coffee was strong and he sat in his fog sipping his drink, completely tuning out the chatter around him until a loud clank sounded as Ron dropped his fork.

"Oh no ... Snape's back!"

Harry in turn nearly dropped his coffee at the announcement. He looked quickly to the front and saw Severus take his seat at the Head Table and begin to survey the room.

He started with his snakes seated at the Slytherin table and then slowly scanned the sea of students until he came upon a pair of emerald eyes.

They held each other's gaze for a few precious seconds.

For Harry, the room went silent. _Thank God you're safe._ Then realization hit him, _Wait a minute … when did you get back?_ And then anger. _Why didn't you let me know?_

But all too quickly, Severus looked away to Dumbledore as the old wizard moved to stand behind the podium.

"I only did half the homework this weekend!" Ron's voice drew Harry from his disquiet thoughts. "I thought we'd still be having that Slughorn fellow this week."

"You have no one to blame but yourself," Hermione chastised. "Professor Snape only had the flu. What did you think? That he'd be gone the remainder of the semester?"

"Will you two quiet down," scolded Ginny, "I'm trying to hear what the Headmaster is saying."

"Furthermore," Dumbledore's voice rang out over the loud murmur in the Great Hall, "until Professor Snape has fully regained his strength, he will only teach levels five through seven. Professor Slughorn will continue to teach levels one through four."

A wave of chatter filled the room in response to this news but it didn't last long; eventually the students quieted then turned their attention to their breakfasts.

Harry stared at his coffee; he was so upset at Severus for not sending word of his return that he just didn't have much of an appetite.

When Severus finished eating, he exited via the annex and Harry decided to try and head him off before class started.

"I forgot my workbook up in the tower," he lied as he got up from the bench. "I'll see you in potions."

"But you haven't eaten," Hermione protested with concern.

"I'm fine," Harry called back as he raced down aisle, out the doorway and around the corner where he promptly ran right through Nearly Headless Nick. "Ahhhh," he cried out and cringed from the feeling of deathly cold.

"Oh Harry I've been looking for you."

"Yeah, so I heard," he snapped back as he tried to shake off the lingering feeling of Nick. "What d'you want?"

"Are you upset with me Harry?"

"No, I'm sorry Nick," he huffed in frustration, "I'm just tired and in a hurry."

"Very well then," the ghost brightened, "I shan't dally." He looked side to side, then held onto his head as he leaned forward and whispered in Harry's ear, "The Bloody Baron asked me to tell you that Professor Snape has returned."

Harry stared incredulously up at the ghost. "When did he get back?"

"I believe last night."

"And you're only telling me now?"

"But the Baron only told me this morning."

This conversation was quickly giving Harry a headache. "Listen, thanks … but I gotta get going." He turned and raced toward the staircase.

"It was nice running into you," Nick called back cheerily.

~SH~

When Harry got to the potions room he found the door locked. "Damn."

_Maybe he's in his private lab._ Harry couldn't decide if he wanted to throw himself at Sev or throttle him, but he did know one thing if nothing else — he had to see him and touch him.

He turned to head for Sev's private laboratory but stopped at the sudden appearance of Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini coming around the corner. "I don't believe this, first Nick and now these two bozos."

"Bit far from home, aren't you, Potter?"

"Don't start Draco."

The two Slytherins sallied up to stand in front of Harry. With Draco a good four inches taller than Harry and Blaise an additional five, they easily towered over the black haired Gryffindor.

"We're not starting anything," Draco answered coolly. "We're just curious why you're down here so early." He looked theatrically from side to side, "Where are your cohorts?"

"None of your business."

"Come now Potter, there's no need to be testy," Zabini teased. "We're all friends … right Draco?"

"You're right Blaise," Draco answered in a sing-song voice.

Harry rolled his eyes then made to leave but the two tall teens blocked his exit.

"Not so fast Potter," Draco sneered, "we're not quite finished with you. After all, it isn't often we get you on your own."

"First off Malfoy," Harry said coolly, "you didn't _get_ me, and secondly … just what is it you want?"

"We heard you'd been sick," Draco said and picked off a stray bit of lint from his robes.

"And that whatever you had was the same thing as the Professor," added Blaise.

"It's a bit curious," Draco shrugged his shoulders, "wouldn't you say?"

"I believe 'overt' would be a better choice of word," Severus' baritone voice cut through the accusation and caused Draco and Blaise to jump about-face in surprise.

"Sir! We didn't hear you."

"Obviously," Severus stared coldly down at the two teens. "How very disappointing to realize that in one week's time, you two have managed to sink to such a plebeian level."

"Sir … we didn't mean anything by it. We were just having some fun," Blaise was nearly in a sweat while alternatively Draco held a stony expression.

Severus returned his godson's hard gaze for a few moments. "On Friday, the two of you will hand in a one foot essay on the qualities and attributes of being Slytherin."

As Draco and Blaise stood gobsmacked, Severus turned to unlock the door while scatterings of seventh years began to filter down the hallway for class.

All Harry had wanted — no needed, was a private moment with Sev before class started. But all he'd gotten for his efforts was a morning of frustration.

As soon as the door opened, Harry marched past Severus. "Welcome back Sir," he snapped and brushed his shoulder against Severus' chest as he headed on into the room to take his seat, red faced and nettled.

~SH~

Severus started the class by expressing his regret for having missed the past week of classes and then spent ample time driving home the fact that the N.E.W.T.s were fast approaching.

"It is apparent from the notes given to me by Professor Slughorn that you spent the past five days fiddling with extraneous potions." Severus was still fuming over this matter.

"You're behind schedule now which means we'll have to step up our efforts to cover each NEWT potion by the Christmas break."

A silent wave of shock swept through the class as the students began to calculate the added workload that was about to come their way.

"It is imperative that you successfully complete each brewing assignment."

Severus began to walk slowly toward the back of the room, "Tell me how one would accomplish this?"

He looked to Draco, "Mr. Malfoy?"

"Make certain to finish the reading assignment before class."

"Correct," Severus had paused while Draco answered the question but now he resumed his pacing, "And what would be sequent to that?"

He turned to Blaise, "Mr. Zabini?"

"Complete the corresponding workbook assignment and have it ready to turn in at the start of class."

"Which all of you should have ready for today."

A few nervous shuffles broke out around the room.

"Pass your workbooks to the front."

No one dared make a sound although a couple of students, Ron included, were inwardly cursing the unexpected early return of Professor Snape.

"What was the assigned potion in the syllabus for today's class?"

The students answered in unison, "The Draught of Living Death."

"Correct." He surveyed the students. Some were squirming in their seats, Hermione was ready to jump out of hers and run to the storage cupboard — but Harry hadn't moved. He was staring hard-faced at his desk, apparently still upset.

"I expect that all of you are fully prepared to complete today's assignment." Severus headed toward his desk. "As usual, I will come around and inspect your work as you brew. You may begin."

Nearly ninety minutes later the class was coming to a close. There had been only four failed attempts for which those students would have to come in the following Saturday and stay until they had successfully completed brewing The Draught of Living Death.

Harry had managed to calm down as he turned his concentration to brewing, but the insinuation posed by Malfoy and Zabini had him worried.

_What if they start talking to others? What if they try to start rumors?_ Harry looked to Severus but the man was preoccupied with levitating each student's workbook back to them, including Harry's own, which now floated into his awaiting hands.

He opened the book to see his grade and discovered a small note tucked tightly into the seam.

Harry glanced surreptitiously around him. Everyone was busy looking at their own scores so he cautiously removed the small piece of parchment and unfolded it.

~o~

_Please stay after_.

~o~

Harry stared at the note and debated whether or not to drop it into the draught, but eventually he tucked it into the safety of his pant's pocket.

~SH~

Staying after didn't work out as easily as Harry had hoped.

First there was Ron. He was livid over the fact that he was one of the four students who had to return Saturday to brew.

"Calm down Ron or you're going to get a detention on top of everything else," cautioned Hermione.

"But I scheduled the pitch for 8:00!" Ron's cheeks were flushed as red as his hair.

"Don't worry, Harry and I will both practice with you this week …"

"I think I'm gonna be pretty busy with training," commented Harry as he watched Sev and Draco exit the lab and go into Severus' office.

"Well that's rich!" leveled Ron. "Where the hell are your priorities?"

Harry was ready to lose it. On top of his bad night, running through Nick and then into Draco and Blaise, he'd had to sit all through class with Severus so close, but not being able to touch him or talk to him. Counting clockwise stirs and adding counterclockwise stirs was no easy feat while trying to deal with a demanding hard on.

Harry had come to the end of his rope, "Maybe I've got my own stuff to deal with! Did you ever think of that?"

"What are you on about?" retorted Ron.

"You two calm down." Hermione glared at the two of them, "I'll work with you, Ron. Harry obviously needs to catch up on the training he missed." She wrapped her arm just a tad low around Ron's waist — that always worked. "With any luck you'll be out on the pitch by 9:30."

Ron leaned into her, "Look mate, I'm sorry. This potions stuff drives me nuts. I wouldn't be taking it if I didn't have to."

Harry sighed, "I'm sorry I blew up."

"Don't worry about it. We all have a lot going on … right?" Just then, Ron's stomach growled. "Come on, let's go get lunch."

"You two go ahead, I need to stay and ask the professor about my training."

"Okay, we'll see you in Transfiguration." Ron slung his bag over his shoulder as he and Hermione left for lunch.

Now that everyone else had gone, Harry could hear the conversation in the other room.

"I didn't mean anything by it Severus. Blaise and I were just …"

The voices disappeared suddenly as Sev, no doubt, must have cast Muffliato.

Not wanting to get caught out and add fuel to Malfoy and Zabini's fire, Harry shoved his book bag under the desk, cast a Disillusionment charm upon himself then moved over to a far corner of the lab to wait for Draco's departure.

He only had to wait a minute or so, for soon Severus and the silver-blond teen came back into the lab. Draco strode determinately to the door, his jaw was hard-set and his gray eyes were glaring, it was obvious that Severus had refused to yield and that Draco was going to have to write that foot long essay.

When the door closed, Harry ended the charm and Severus watched as Harry's body gradually reappeared, then he warded the door.

They stared at each other in silence.

Now that Harry had Severus all to himself, he wasn't quite sure what to do next. He knew what he wanted to do, but wasn't sure if Sev was still feeling distant and withdrawn. So he settled for, "Hi."

"Hi." Severus eventually answered quietly then added, "Are you all right?"

"Not really." Harry licked his lips. "Better than I was last night."

Severus took a step, "Why, what happened?"

Harry dragged the tips of his fingers along a desktop as he moved a little closer. "Why didn't you tell me were back?"

Severus stopped, "I sent word to you."

Harry stopped also, "When?"

"Last night," Severus' voice sounded slightly defensive, "with the Bloody Baron."

"The Bloody Baron? You thought the Fat Lady would let him into the tower?"

"Harry, I'm not up for playing games. Did you or did you not receive my message?"

"No I didn't. I didn't know you were back until I saw you walk into the Great Hall this morning."

Harry's response, dripping with frustration, caused Severus to literally take a step backward and then stand uncharacteristically still as he seemed to retreat within himself.

Harry noticed the sudden change in Sev's demeanor, _What the hell am I doing?_ and he quickly changed tack. "Listen Sev, I don't want to fight. I've just been so worried about you." He sighed, "I'm glad you're back," he said and took a doubtful step forward. "And you're okay, right?"

Severus stayed where he was. "Yes, I told you in my letter that I had improved. But I …"

Harry was now only inches away and looked up at him with those eyes. "But what?"

"But … I missed you." Severus finally finished in a soft voice.

His words surprised Harry, because Sev never talked like that. "You did?"

Severus nodded.

"I missed you too."

They were face to face now, and the energy of their emotions was thick between them.

"Sev, that night before you left … at first you didn't want me to touch you." Harry tentatively reached out his hand, "I wasn't sure if maybe you still felt that way or if …"

Before he could finish his sentence and before he knew what was happening, he was wrapped up in Sev's strong arms.

Harry couldn't get close enough as he pressed himself hard against that wonderfully long torso and burrowed his face against Sev's elegant neck. "It feels so good to touch you."

Suddenly he felt a wall behind him — and Sev was in front. There were cheeks and chins, thick hair to explore and touching fingers, the aroma of one and the feel of the other, and when Sev's long thigh pressed up against Harry's already hard and impatient cock, the young wizard started to come and his magic began to swirl.

Severus gasped as he felt the enormous power vibrate through him.

Harry pinnacled quickly and when his release subsided, he leaned heavily against Severus. Their lips were but a fraction apart. "Kiss me," he whispered.

Severus felt as though he was about to tumble down the most delectable of holes. "But we agreed …" His sentence was left hanging when Harry took a hold of Sev's thumb and wrapped his lips around it.

Severus gently pulled his thumb away. "We can't. I assured the Headmaster …"

"Nooo," Harry pleaded as he sank to his knees and took Severus with him. "Why did you do that? It's none of his business!"

"Unfortunately it is." Severus said and then took a couple of breaths to clear his mind, "You must realize that I could be let go for having an affair with a student."

Their sweet moment suddenly turned serious.

"Couldn't we keep it a secret? No one has to know."

"But we would know," Severus said and then gently cupped his hand to the creamy cheek, "and that guilt might tarnish what we share."

Harry laid his head in the crook of Severus' neck and thought about what he'd said. "Answer me something."

"If I can."

"What if you had died yesterday?" Harry asked and looked up into those ebony eyes. "What if I die before I graduate?"

Severus couldn't dispute the argument. "You raise a valid point," he said and ran his thumb along Harry's delectable cheekbone. "If we …"

But before Severus could utter another word, a knock sounded at the door.

The two wizards sitting upon the laboratory floor, entwined in each other's arms, looked to the door in a panic.

"Oh shit … it's time for the next class," Harry gasped. "How am I going to get out of here?"

They scrambled to their feet. "My office," Severus said and grabbed a hold of Harry's hand. "You can Floo up to the Gryffindor common room."

They raced into Severus' office where he tossed a handful of Floo powder into the Floo and called out, "Gryffindor common room."

"Wait!" Harry looked back to the classroom. "Accio book-bag!"

The bag sailed into the office and into his outstretched hand.

Then, in a sweeping elegant move, Severus pulled the teen close and ghosted his lips across Harry's just before he stumbled back and was swept away in the green flames.

~SH~


	30. A Twitchy Development

**30. A Twitchy Development **

Dumbledore's chocolate colored robe swirled as he turned a pirouette to evade Harry's curse and then countered with a strong stinging hex, but the teen managed to deflect it and returned with a counter spell that hit the old wizard in his knee and sent him tumbling.

"Sir!" Harry called out in shock and then pelted across the Room of Requirement to where the Headmaster now lay sprawled in a sea of taffeta.

"Oh my God!" Harry exclaimed. "Sir, are you alright?" He was on the verge of panic. "Let me levitate you to Madame Pomfrey."

"Oh for Merlin's sake Harry, calm down," snapped Dumbledore as he pulled up the crunchy fabric to inspect his knee. "I am certainly capable of handling this!"

Harry knelt beside his fallen instructor and watched as the old wizard countered the Dura spell that had left his knee solid as stone.

The skin and bone softened and Dumbledore was once again able to bend his joint. "There see? Good as new." He smoothed down his robe over his boney appendage then reached out for Harry to take his hand. "Do help me up."

Which Harry did, "Sir I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you. I promise, next time I'll be more careful."

Dumbledore pulled out two lemon drops from of his pocket, transfigured them into a couple of overstuffed chairs then motioned for Harry to take a seat. "Of course I realize this was unintentional, but the fact of the matter is …" he quickly transfigured another drop into an ottoman to prop his leg upon, "you shouldn't have to be more careful."

Harry furrowed his brow. "Sir?"

"The whole point of Professor Snape and me working with you is to give you a challenge … not the opposite."

"But I do need to be more careful! Just look at you, Sir."

Dumbledore huffed a sigh of exasperation. "I believe we both could do with a spot of tea."

He called for an elf to bring them a service of tea and after a few sips of the robust Ceylon and a bite of sweet cake, he continued. "The fact of the matter is that with Severus busy at the new stronghold … I simply cannot keep up with you my boy."

Harry swallowed his bite of cake. "What are you saying Sir?"

"What I'm saying is … that as long as Professor Snape's evenings are committed to setting up Voldemort's new laboratory, I need help in carrying out your training."

Harry shrugged. "That makes sense. Who do ya have in mind?"

Dumbledore took another sip of his tea then placed the little porcelain cup on its saucer, "Professor Priestly has asked if he might be allowed to help with your training."

Harry tensed, "He did?"

Dumbledore nodded, "He mentioned having had a discussion with Professor Jackson a few weeks ago … regarding you, my boy."

"Yeah, Channon wrote about it in one of his letters."

"I believe he has finally admitted to himself that he was wrong about you. "

Harry fiddled with the lid on the teapot but didn't say anything.

"So, what is your opinion on the matter?"

Truth was, Harry wasn't at all keen about working with Priestly. He didn't like him and for some reason — he didn't trust him. But knowing how busy Severus was and not wanting him to get sick again, added to that the sight of an exhausted Dumbledore sitting before him with his recently hexed leg resting on the little ottoman, it didn't seem like he had much of a choice. "I suppose it's okay."

Dumbledore sighed with relief, "Splendid. I will let him know straight away."

~SH~

Solomon Priestly scribed his critique neatly in the right-hand margin on this, the last essay of the evening. He'd been at it for hours, reading and grading the seventh years' recent assignment: _The __M__erits of Perfection in Defensive Magic._

He wiped his quill clean, carefully placed it on the unadorned pen rest then leaned back and released a tremendous sigh.

He been out of sorts lately; he was continually exhausted, had a persistent headache, and the most frustrating was this annoying twitch.

_Why does it keep doing this? _He wondered and placed his finger gently at the edge of his eye lid to try to stop the twitch. It didn't work, his lid continued on as it had for the last few days, twitching every few seconds or so.

Exasperated, he stood and crossed over to the sideboard where he started to pour himself a glass of whiskey. _Stop you fool_, he reprimanded himself then quickly set down the decanter.

Solomon Priestly firmly believed that drinking was a social act; one never drank by oneself.

_I know what's wrong with me … it's staying at this blasted castle and teaching these bloody children. _

He began to pace back and forth across the small office. _It's all starting to catch up with me… that must be it. _

To say that Solomon was out of sorts would be an understatement. It had all started that night after the failed attempt upon You Know Who's manor, the night when he went to drown his frustration at The Hog's Head. Ever since then, he simply didn't feel right. Added to that was the persistent headache and the embarrassing twitch.

Everyone could see it; they could see that he wasn't in control of himself and that made the twitch even more difficult to bear than the headache. For Solomon Priestly always had to be in control, he needed order and most importantly — he needed respect.

A whoosh of sound startled him as a letter flew out of the Floo and then hung suspended, patiently waiting to be noticed.

He snatched it up and scanned the short note from the Headmaster that confirmed Potter's agreement to participate in his proposed dueling sessions.

He sighed in relief, but at the same moment another part of him — one very much in distress, tried in vain to voice its opposition.

But the demanding quietude of the Imperius curse was far stronger and it caused him to succumb to its specious logic.

_Perfect_, he thought. _This will enable me to carry out my assignment and then, all will be as it should be. _

~SH~

Neville wound his fingers around Luna's golden locks. They felt so silky and caught the light just so —

"Luna, let's go up to the Astronomy tower."

She smiled and tipped her head askew, "Orion should be high in the sky just now. Yes, this would be a delightful time."

_Whatever works_, thought Neville. "Let's go," he whispered.

They'd stepped into the Porthole just as Harry was coming in, "Hi you two."

"Good evening Harry," answered Luna in a daze, Neville simply looked guilty.

Harry whispered in Neville's ear, "It's almost curfew."

With a nod of acknowledgement, he and Luna headed off for distant prospects as Harry walked over and slumped into his favorite chair by the fire.

"How was training?" asked Ron as he sat back up on the nearby sofa, exposing a rather disheveled Hermione.

"Not so great," Harry replied and looked despondently around the room. "Is it just me, or is everyone snogging in here?"

"I think you're over exaggerating," Hermione said as she straightened her top.

Harry stared at Ginny and Dean curled up together in the far corner, and then remembered Luna's lips — from the looks of them, she and Neville had been hard at it.

Just then, Hermione flipped her hair back behind her shoulders.

"You gotta a hickey on your neck," Harry pronounced flatly.

She quickly pulled her hair back forward and smacked Ron on the shoulder. "How many times do I have to tell you … be careful where you do that," she huffed.

"Sorry Mione," Ron gave her his best _I feel terrible about it_ look, then lightly stroked the mark with his thumb.

Harry had had enough, "G'night," he said and then stood to leave.

"Wait! We have rounds!"

"Well then hurry up," he called back and changed direction towards the portrait hole.

"Hermione quickly cast a glamor, then raced to catch up with him."

~SH~

"What's got you in such a foul mood?"

"Nothing," Harry snapped sullenly as he marched down the hallway.

She turned to go up the steps to the Astronomy Tower.

"Wait a minute," he glanced up the steps, thinking Neville and Luna were probably up there, "Let's catch the tower on our way back."

"Oh … all right." They continued down the hall, "Come on, what's wrong?"

Harry blew out a heavy sigh. "I'm just frustrated."

Hermione quickly cast a Muffliato, "The Professor?"

"Yeah."

"But I thought you two worked things out."

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. "We did … a bit." He really didn't feel comfortable talking about Severus with Hermione.

"So?"

"Um ... well, he hasn't been around much. That's all."

"Oh." Hermione slanted him a glance. She knew there was more to it than just that, but Harry was being tight lipped.

They checked the alcove on the sixth floor. "This is all clear," he said flatly. "Come on, let's head back up. The Prefects will check the other levels."

Halfway up the steps he continued, "I suppose there is something else."

"I knew it; what?"

"I'm supposed to start training with Priestly," he said discouragingly.

"You can't be serious."

"It's true. I think maybe he asked to do it because of that talk Channon had with him."

"Well, perhaps it's for the best. He really is quite good with details."

Harry rolled his eyes and headed for the Portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Hold up!" she called out. "We haven't checked the Astronomy tower yet," and then took off in that direction.

"Oh yeah." He hurried to catch up with her.

When they reached the Astronomy tower and ascended the steps, Harry intentionally made a bit of noise to warn of their approach.

It was all for nothing, for when they stepped out onto the tower they found nothing but dark sky and swirling snowflakes.

"Let's go Harry; it's freezing."

"You go on," he answered quietly then walked over and leaned against the battlement.

Hermione joined him and lightly touched him on the back. "It'll be okay. You just need to be patient and give things a chance to work out."

"That's what Sev keeps saying, that we need to be patient …"

They stood in silence and stared out at the chilly landscape.

"He promised that as soon as term ends, we'll take a vacation together," Harry almost didn't dare talk about it, for fear he would jinks their plans — they seemed too good to be true.

"That's wonderful."

"Don't say anything though, 'cause …"

"I know, I know … it's a secret."

He bumped teasingly against her. "Thanks for being there." he said and then was quiet for a moment before he continued. "Sometimes it all gets to be a bit much."

"Yeah, I know."

"I hate lying to Ron …" He turned and looked earnestly at her, "Do you think he'll ever understand about me and Sev?"

Hermione reached up and straightened his Head Boy pin, "You know, I wouldn't have understood either … if wasn't for what you've told me about him." She paused then continued, "He never shows that side of himself to us."

"He can't," Harry said defensively.

"I understand … believe me, I do," she assured him. "And I think that once you're able to tell Ron the truth, he'll understand also. Just give it time Harry."

Harry looked at Hermione with a curious expression.

"What?" she asked.

"I …" He was thinking how much he appreciated Hermione. Even though she could be annoying sometimes, he did love her and thought of her almost like a sister. But he couldn't bring himself to say any of that, so he just settled for a quick hug.

"Come on, let's get back.

~SH~

"So where are you meeting him? Ron asked as he slung his book-bag over his shoulder.

"The Room of Requirement."

They headed for the door but paused and waited as Professor McGonagall bustled past them.

"Excuse me boys, I'm late for a meeting," she called back and hurried out of the classroom.

"No worries Professor," answered Harry as Ron looked to Hermione whom was still gathering her things.

"Are you gonna spend the holiday break in here?" he asked.

"Ha ha," she snipped. "No I'm not. I just needed to jot down a couple of notes regarding our assignment."

"I can't believe McGonagall gave us homework to do over the break!" protested Ron as they now headed out into the hallway.

"She's just trying to keep us on track in our preparations for N.E.W.T.s."

They turned and started to climb the staircase. "There's plenty of time to do that during classes," retorted Ron. "I'd rather have some fun over the holidays, not work on Transfiguration."

She pursed her lips and then changed the subject, "You're awfully quiet Harry."

"I bet you can guess why," he replied.

"It'll be all right. Don't worry."

"That's easy for you to say."

"She's right mate," added Ron encouragingly. "Priestly isn't so bad. A bit anal …"

"Ron, don't talk about him like that," Hermione reprimanded. "Look how much he's helped Neville. All that attention to detail was just what he needed."

They reached the seventh floor.

"You want us to wait for you?"

"Nah, I'm not sure when we'll finish." Harry sighed and looked down the hallway. "I'll just meet you down at dinner."

"All right then … Good luck mate."

"It'll be fine Harry."

"Right," he croaked then headed off for the Room of Requirement whilst Ron and Hermione went in the opposite direction toward Gryffindor Tower.

~SH~

"I need a place to train." Harry uttered the agreed cue and the heavy doors opened, allowing him entrance.

Solomon Priestly was already there, waiting for him. "Ah Mr. Potter, right on time."

"Hello Sir." Harry looked around in disappointment at the starkly barren room. _Great. I can see how this is going to go. _

Whenever he worked with Dumbledore, the room would be filled with a myriad of objects: armoires, trees, prisms of light; anything an individual could hide behind, be distorted within, or climb up on — all in order to add the factor of dimension to the duel.

With Severus, he always got the room to change into different places: a wharf in a fishing village, a beautiful countryside, an orchard of olive trees. They were all places near his villa in Italy and experiencing them had been a godsend for Harry, as it was now nearly two years that he'd been confined to the safety of the castle.

"I thought we might start with some basic target practice, so that I can observe your technique."

"Okay Sir." Harry's eyes were drawn immediately to the twitch. It had grown in intensity so that it now included the man's cheek. "Are you all right Sir?"

"What this?" Priestly waved nonchalantly at his twitching face. "Don't concern yourself. It's simply due to fatigue. I'm certain it will go away over the holiday break."

"Yes Sir," Harry placated, but couldn't help thinking that the Professor's malady added a whole new dimension to the term 'twitchy'.

Priestly faced the far wall and waved his wand in an exacting arc that caused a stone buttress appear with a bull's-eye painted in its center. "Now Mr. Potter, if you would … please demonstrate for me a Stinging Hex. Try to hit the bulls-eye exactly in the center mark.

Harry squinted at the little red dot in the center of the ring. It was almost impossible to see — even with his glasses. Nevertheless, he gave it a go and executed his wandless Stinging hex.

It missed the little dot by about five inches to the right.

"You missed."

"Well, it's kind of hard to see that dot. Can it be bigger?"

"The entire point of this exercise Mr. Potter, is to refine your spell placement."

"Oh."

"Try again."

Harry sighed, turned back to face the buttress, squinted and then executed another Stinging hex. He missed, but this time it hit just to the left of center.

Priestly watched intently, apparently trying to discern what it was Harry was doing wrong. "You know Mr. Potter, without using your wand, it is very difficult for me to appraise your movement."

"But I can't use one Sir; it would cause too much damage."

"I understand that," he said and furrowed his brow as if trying to come up with a solution. "Ah, I have an idea."

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a coin and Transfigured it into a wand.

"You can use this. Since it isn't a real wand, there shouldn't be any problem."

That seemed reasonable, so Harry grabbed a hold of the specious piece of wood and immediately felt the sudden jerking sensation behind his navel as the Portkey activated from his touch.

Panic ripped through him as he realized what was taking place, knowing at the same time that he was powerless to stop what was about to happen.

~SH~


	31. Sweet Surrender

**31. Sweet Surrender**

"Hermione, pass the potatoes will ya?"

"Where are they?"

"Down there by Neville."

She looked to her right, "Neville. Would you please pass the bowl of potatoes?"

"Sure."

As she waited for Neville, a movement in her periphery vision caught her attention. "Oh, there's Professor Priestly."

"What about him?"

"He's sitting down at the Head Table." She handed Ron the bowl and looked in the opposite direction, toward the main doors to the Hall. "They must've finished with training, but where's Harry?"

"He's probably just taking a shower or something."

"I suppose you're right," she agreed.

They turned their attention back to their meals as the hum of voices and tinkling of cutlery filled the hall.

Around the time of pudding, the resonance of the voices changed to murmurs and 'Ooohhs', as the clinking began to stop and was interspersed with occasional 'clanks' when several students dropped their silverware.

"What's going on?" Ron looked up from his chocolate gateau to see a sea of faces looking at something behind him. Then he heard someone say, "Is that Harry?"

Ron turned and his heart nearly stopped at the sight that greeted him.

Harry was walking up the aisle, making his way slowly toward the Head Table. His eyes were glaring with ire, and his expression was livid. One side of his face was covered in blood, his robes were torn, he was limping and he held his left arm close to his chest.

Several of his friends and members of the D.A. began to jump off the benches and run to his aid.

"Don't touch me!" he ground out and they all stopped. "Get out of my way!" and they responded by backing up to create a pathway.

He continued on with his determined trek until he finally reached the front of the room and stood before the Head Table, directly in front of Professor Solomon Priestly.

"Harry my boy! What happened to you?" Dumbledore was standing now, aghast at the sight before him.

Harry glared emerald green daggers as he raised his trembling arm and pointed to the twitching man in front of him. "He tried to Portkey me out of here!"

Time seemed to stop momentarily as those congregated stared in disbelief at Harry and Priestly —

Then all hell broke loose.

The accused wizard jumped up from his chair and attempted to run for the annex door.

Dumbledore swung his arm in a slashing motion, which created strands of ropes that quickly wrapped themselves around Priestly.

Both Professors McGonagall and Sprout leapt upon the now bound twitchy wizard and wrestled him to the floor.

Several students began to scream while others jumped up on the benches and tables to get a better view.

Hagrid ran across the dais, which caused it to nearly give way under the pressure of his lumbering footsteps.

"Silence!" Dumbledore yelled. "Everyone stay where you are! Do not move! No one is to leave this chamber!"

Everyone froze and the scuffle, still taking place between Priestly, McGonagall and Sprout, echoed about the room.

"I'll take him ladies," Hagrid announced and he took hold of the struggling wizard.

Priestly, who was now speaking in garbled words, continued his struggle to free himself from the ropes and now Hagrid's firm grip.

"Minerva!" called the Headmaster.

McGonagall got to her feet and tidied her bun as she hurried over to the Headmaster. "Yes, Albus?"

"Have the D.A. assist you in getting Mr. Potter up to the hospital wing. Stay with him; don't let anyone enter but myself."

"I'll lock the doors and have the D.A. stand guard," she replied then hurried off to collect her charge.

Ron wrapped his strong arm around Harry whom was shaking so badly now that he could barely stand. "I've got him Professor," Ron told McGonagall as she approached. Then he turned to his injured friend, "Come on mate … let's get you fixed up."

The members of the D.A. formed a human shield around Harry as they made their way slowly down the aisle, ordering students to "get out of the way!" and "stand back!"

Dumbledore then instructed the Prefects to escort the students, by House, back to their common rooms and added that curfew was in effect immediately.

The students began to file slowly out and Dumbledore moved over to where Hagrid held the still struggling Priestly, and then beckoned to Mr. Filch to join them.

"Argus, please assist Hagrid in taking the Professor to your office. I will contact the Ministry and join you as soon as they arrive."

"With pleasure," drawled the Squib.

~SH~

Severus pulled his cloak closer to him as he crossed the ancient wooden bridge that lead to the east entrance of the castle. The night was cold and his breaths left a swirling cloud of vapor to trail behind him in the frigid air.

He was so relieved, dare he say 'happy'; happy that the laboratory was finally organized. All the ingredients, the vials of already brewed and bottled potions, the paraphernalia, everything — it was now all stored away in their appropriate places. The cauldrons were set up; he had even tried out the new porcelain one and was very pleased with how it had performed.

He crossed under the pergola then slipped in through the worn wooden doorway, down the narrow spiral steps then along the torch lit hallway to its end where a portrait of Salazar Slytherin hung.

"Sssspaahsss," he whispered the one word of Parseltongue he knew, the command form of the verb meaning 'to open'. The portrait responded to reveal a door that Severus unlocked and opened.

He stepped into his chambers, shut the door and leaned against it, then closed his eyes and sighed in relief. Now that the laboratory was finished and the fifth and seventh years had fairly caught up to where they should be for their upcoming exams, he could finally resume his training with Harry.

He pushed himself away from the door and began to cross the room but stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of the purple envelope hanging suspended in front of the fireplace.

The purple envelope was a private signal from Dumbledore that indicated a matter of importance.

Severus crossed over and quickly snatched up the envelope, then pulled out the missive and one small bag of unlocking Floo powder.

He unfolded the parchment and began to read the note. With each successive word, his heart beat faster so that by the time he'd reached the end, it was literally pounding in his chest. He dropped the note and immediately threw the Floo powder into the Floo.

It blazed up red, signifying the locked Floo, but in a matter of moments the flames changed to green.

"Madame Pomfrey's office!" he yelled and then leapt into the flames in his pressing need to reach Harry as quickly as possible.

~SH~

Poppy had just entered her office when Severus jumped out of her Floo.

"How is he?"

"He's going to be fine."

"But a fall from that height … his injuries must be severe."

Poppy set down the tray of vials and waved her hand, "No Severus. When he hit the protective ward, he fell into a tree and then onto some shrubbery."

"And?" Severus' eyes were wide with anxiety, "What is the extent of his injuries?"

She patted the air in an attempt to convey reassurance. "His left collarbone is completely broken. The tissue surrounding the brake is damaged and torn. He has numerous cuts and several contusions. He was rather badly shaken by the entire experience … I must say." She shook her head, "Poor boy."

"I want to see him," Severus said and headed straight for the door but then stopped. "Is anyone with him?"

"No. Albus insisted on keeping the doors locked, and he erected a ward to protect him."

Severus turned and stared questioningly at the Mediwitch. "Does Albus believe other perpetrators may still be at large?"

"We don't know, so Albus erected the ward just to be safe," she explained.

"Please Poppy, I need to see him."

Madame Pomfrey escorted Severus down the length of the hospital wing.

The protective ward Dumbledore had erected shimmered and extended across the entire width of the room. He had left a special wand with Poppy, which she could use to access passage through it.

"I'll leave this with you," she handed him the knotted length of wood. "Put it in the top right drawer of my desk when you leave."

"I won't need it," he whispered. "I'm going to stay with him through the night."

Albus had mentioned casually that Harry and Severus were good friends and that he would no doubt be concerned. But it was obvious to her from Severus' reaction and demeanor that this was more than just friendship.

"Very well, but don't wear yourself out. You've only recently regained your own health."

"I'll rest on the bed next to his."

She touched him lightly on his forearm, "I'll return every four hours to administer the doses of Skelegro."

"I can do that …"

"No. That's _my_ job. You make certain to take care of yourself."

He eyed Poppy silently. "I'll try my utmost," he answered stiffly.

She nodded and they both turned in opposite directions, she for her office and Severus towards Harry's bed.

He placed his footsteps carefully so as not to make a sound, then peered around the privacy screen.

There lay Harry sound asleep and propped up on several pillows, covered with a cloud of soft blankets. Severus' heart rate, which had slowed its frantic beating as he spoke with Poppy, now picked up its pace once again.

Was it because of the sight before him? That of Harry injured? Or the blatant realization that if Albus had not erected those protective wards, Harry might very well be in the clutches of the Dark Lord this very moment? Or even worse — dead?

_What if I die before I graduate?_ Harry's question echoed in Severus' thoughts.

He stepped closer to the bed and gently took hold of Harry's hand. It was cool to the touch, and he suddenly felt protective.

_Why didn't Poppy cover __his__ arm?_ Which Severus proceeded to do with the utmost of care. But he stopped when he lifted the blankets and saw Harry's left arm, bandaged and bound tightly to his naked chest. There were scatterings of recently and partially healed bruises and cuts littering the young firm torso.

He contemplated what Harry must have experienced: the terror of being Portkeyed against his will, knowing that he would slam into the ward and being powerless to stop it, falling and colliding into branches, then finally hitting the ground.

He turned over Harry's cool hand and saw the remnants of several abrasions and cuts littering his palm; a few of his nails were broken.

_He must have tried to grasp the branches __in an attempt to stop his fall_, Severus thought. He covered Harry's free arm with the blankets and then pulled them up over his shoulders.

An intensity overtook him and he suddenly felt the need to step away from the bed. He moved to stand by the window and then drew in a deep cleansing breath that shook his body as it left him.

Severus felt unfamiliar moisture at the edge of his eye. He touched his lash and when he lowered his hand - he saw a single unannounced tear perched precariously on the tip of his finger.

This small translucent entity bore witness to a fact that Severus could no longer avoid or deny: that what he felt for Harry wasn't simply physical attraction, admiration of power or intrigue. He cared for Harry — or dare he say … love?

A soft mewl caught his attention and he moved swiftly to sit by Harry's side.

"It's all right. You're safe. I'm here with you." Then without thinking, Severus leaned down and kissed Harry.

It felt wonderful to finally join in this way. The kiss was honest and perfect, and when he released his embrace, Severus pulled back to look at Harry's sleeping face – but what he saw instead were two questioning eyes.

"Sev?" Harry whispered.

"Shhh, go back to sleep."

"Did you just kiss me?"

Severus startled softly at being caught out; he vacillated for a moment but then confessed, "Yes."

"Not fair … slept through most of it," Harry's weak voice was so soft that Severus could barely hear him.

"I believe I can rectify that situation, Mr. Potter," Severus whispered and then brushed his lips lightly against Harry's.

Harry tried to catch Severus before he could slip away again, as he had done two weeks before.

"I wasn't finished," he whispered and then swept back in the opposite direction, nibbling and biting as he went.

"Oh," Harry moaned, "Don't stop."

It was almost like a dance, the way Severus kissed and licked, then nibbled and pulled.

Harry reached up to deepen the kiss, but even that slight movement caused him terrible pain. "Aahhhh," he grimaced.

Severus sat up and sighed, "I believe that is enough for tonight."

"So sore."

"Try to go back to sleep."

"Don't go."

Severus kissed Harry once more, but this time his kiss was definite and intense and he used it to convey his strength and sincerity. "I'm going to stay by your side all night. I won't leave you."

"Want you to hold me."

"You shouldn't be jostled …"

"Please."

"Oh …" Severus sighed, "you can be a brat."

Harry looked up with a pleading verdant gaze. "Please," he whispered once again.

_Those eyes of his are going to be my undoing__, _Severus admitted to himself and then surrendered, "All right."

He kicked off his shoes, then eased himself onto the bed and slid his arm cautiously under the pillow, bringing Harry's head to rest on top of his chest.

"I love it here," Harry whispered. He could hear the steady beat of Severus' heart echo from inside; it made him feel safe and lulled him off to sleep in a matter of seconds.

Severus listened as Harry's breathing deepened and changed to a steady pace. He shook his head slightly then reached down and kissed the messy mop of hair, "What have you done to me Mr. Potter?"

~SH~


	32. The Best Christmas Present, Ever

**32. The Best Christmas Present, Ever**

The morning that followed the attempted kidnapping found Severus back in his quarters, preparing for what would be a long day.

He leaned into the spray of hot water as it pelted the tight muscles that stretched from the base of his neck to his shoulder, a remnant of the awkward position in which he'd kept his arm the previous night.

He had held Harry for hours, treasuring the feel the slender body so close to his while he carded his fingers through that wild hair and listened to the injured young wizard's steady breaths.

The moonlight, slipping through the infirmary windows, had cast the room in a soft opalescent hue, very similar to the way it had two years previous when Severus had sat with the Gryffindor after the accident at his aunt's house.

That night had been a turning point in their relationship — Severus could see that now. And with every interaction that had ensued day, it seemed to him that fate was pulling he and Harry closer and closer together.

~SH~

"Ah Severus, how did it go?"

All eyes lighted upon the spy and watched as he crossed the Headmaster's office.

"Minister," Severus acknowledged Scrimgeour then nodded to the others assembled as he reached the tea cart and surveyed the selection. "The Healer has finished his assessment."

"And?" asked Dumbledore.

Ceylon sounded good this afternoon, "The children are all fine." He added a squeeze of lemon to the tea now housed in a damask cup and turned to face those select members of the Ministry and Order who had gathered to discuss the unbelievable events of the previous day. "What about the other houses?"

"All clear," reported Minerva.

Severus took a seat next to her, "And Priestly?" he asked in a cool tone. Even though he knew the wizard was as much a victim as Harry, he was still livid with the man.

"We were just about to get to that," replied Scrimgeour. "Kingsley, would you please read the latest report?"

"Yes Minister." The ebony wizard removed the parchment from his leather portfolio and took a moment to scan the document. "The Healers from St. Mungo's state that Solomon is still obtunded and will need further treatments."

"That's it?" sputtered Gawain Robards, Head of the Auror department.

"Yes," confirmed Kingsley.

"But has he spoken?" Robards pressed. "Did he at least say who did this to him?"

"What part of the word 'obtunded' don't you understand," replied Moody in a gruff voice.

"Please Allister," Remus chastised softly and then turned his attention back to Kingsley. "Do they offer an estimate as to how long it will take to remove the curse?"

Shacklebolt looked over the document once again. "The curse has already been removed." He shook his head as he continued to stare at the bad news. "Apparently, whoever cast the curse was rather inept. There is some residual damage …" He looked up and met the gazes of everyone who was listening intently. "He will heal, but it's going to take time."

"Dear me," sympathized Minerva.

Robards stood up and began to pace, "All right then … Priestly can't tell us anything, and you say that everyone else here at the castle has been cleared?"

"Yes Gawain," Dumbledore confirmed. "All of the children and staff members have been checked."

"Then can someone please!" he yelled, "tell me how one of my top Aurors, working at Hogwarts, was Imperiused?"

~SH~

Ron and Hermione jumped off the last step a second before the staircase started to swing away in the opposite direction, they then turned the corner for the Hospital Wing where they immediately saw the Auror, standing guard in front of the infirmary doors. He'd been assigned by the Ministry to protect Harry until the investigation was completed.

"No one may enter without a pass," barked the imposing sentry as he stared down at them with a Spartan expression.

"But we were told it was okay for Harry to have visitors now," Hermione pleaded.

"No pass — no entry."

"But …" she was about to continue her entreaty when the doors opened and out stepped Madame Pomfrey.

"It's all right young man," she said and handed an official looking note to the guard. "I just received word that the investigation is now complete."

The guard read the note, "Very well, they may enter. But it says here that I'm to remain at my post to provide security."

"I think that's a fine idea." Madame Pomfrey patted his arm then turned to the anxious Gryffindors. "There's someone inside who would very much like to see the two of you."

~SH~

"Outposts? What outpost?" asked Robards.

"The outpost used to travel to and from the Fastness," replied Severus.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about Snape?"

"I detailed all of this information in my report." Severus looked questioningly to Dumbledore, "You did pass it on, didn't you?"

"He did Severus," interjected Scrimgeour. "I simply haven't finished my review. Your report is still in my safe."

"That's all well and fine Minister," snapped the exasperated Auror. "But considering what has happened, don't you think the time has come to share this information with the rest of us?"

Scrimgeour started to reply but Severus interceded, "Perhaps it would be best if I simply relay the details of what I have observed."

"Agreed," said the Minister.

Severus set down his cup and began the lengthy description of the protocol involved in traveling to and from the Dark Lord's new headquarters.

He explained that now, when Apparating in response to the call of the Dark Mark, he was lead to a shack where he would supply a password to the guard on duty and in turn receive a Portkey that would then transport him to the reception room at the Fastness.

"The Fastness?" Robards leaned forward in his chair. "What Fastness?"

Snape looked to Dumbledore then to the Minister. They both nodded their heads for him to proceed.

He drew a deep breath, "The Dark Lord's new headquarters," he clarified. "Of what I have seen, the Fastness is situated a top a large outcropping of rock. Around this outcropping runs a powerful river that cuts through a dense forest."

"Do you know its location?" asked Minerva.

He shook his head. "The potions laboratory is situated on the east side of the second level. It has one window, and from it I have a partial view of the river below; straight ahead, all I can see are trees."

"Can you tell what kind of trees they are?" Arthur offered excitedly. "Perhaps that might help determine the location."

His obvious suggestion was greeted with a cold black stare.

"I suppose you already thought of that," Arthur responded softly.

"Pinus sylvestris and Picea abies," Severus replied in a flat tone.

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore chimed in lightly to diffuse the tension, "those two genus and species of trees make up the majority of forests in Northern Europe."

"Please continue Snape," redirected Shacklebolt.

Severus went on to explain that guards were positioned throughout the building itself and that one was only allowed access to the specific area needed to accomplish their task, etc. Once completed, one was to leave — immediately.

He then addressed Dumbledore, "Albus, do you still have that scaled drawing I gave to you?"

"It's in my desk," he replied.

"Perhaps if you conjured duplicates and passed them around to the others."

Dumbledore nodded and proceeded to do such.

"A scaled drawing of what?" asked Moody.

"Of the Fastness."

"Really?" Arthur's eyes brightened as his copy came floating to him. He grabbed it and began to inspect the drawing, as did everyone else.

"But there's hardly anything to this?" Robards criticized as he stared at his copy.

"I agree that it is incomplete; I am only allowed access to the hallways and corridors I must travel through to reach the laboratory."

"What's this large room, here on the first floor?" asked Moody as he tipped his head and looked at the map with his whirling artificial eye.

"That is the chamber where the Dark Lord holds assemblies. Leading south is the hallway to the reception room. Here," Severus pointed to the large central staircase, "is the stairway that accesses the upper floors."

"How many levels are there?" asked Tonks.

"I am only allowed access to the second level, specifically, the east wing of the second level. But from my observation, there are three levels."

"That's it?" Robards asked, his voice a little too loud. "All you can offer is this incomplete drawing and talk of shacks, rivers and trees?"

Severus donned his expressionless mask and leveled an unreadable glare at the brazen Auror.

"I'd like to see you try to and do as much!" snapped Molly. Severus Snape held a dear spot in her heart ever since he'd come to Arthur's rescue two years previous to straighten out the calamity with the Dursleys.

"That's enough, Gawain," Dumbledore chastised. "Molly, please calm down." He paused a moment as the intensity of the moment subsided. "I understand that we are all on edge, but to attack each other serves no purpose."

"Severus," Remus spoke the name as gently as possible, never-the-less, the spy stiffened in response. "Might you have an opinion as to the location of the shack?"

Severus could barely stand having the werewolf speak to him. Though it had been many years, he still harbored resentment for the teenage prank that had nearly cost him his life. But of every question and request posed thus-far, this was the first truly insightful comment he'd heard.

"It is my perception," Severus answered as he pointedly did _not_ look at Remus, "that there are several of these outposts. And depending upon where the Death Eater is summoned from, determines which outpost he Apparates to."

Some members gasped at the implication of this statement.

"So there's one near Hogwarts," surmised Robards.

Severus stared coldly at the Auror and nodded.

"And that means there are always Death Eaters in the vicinity?" offered Minerva.

Severus' expression softened as he glanced to her and nodded his confirmation.

"And that's where Harry would have been taken, if it hadn't been for the wards," Molly trembled at the thought.

So did Severus.

~SH~

"Stop being a dolt and let me help you," Ron admonished as he watched his best friend limp back from the loo.

"No, I can do it myself," retorted Harry, frustrated by the fact that he was in the infirmary — again; he was determined to walk back to his bed under his own power.

"Well, at least let me help get you back into bed."

The injured young wizard didn't have much of an option in that department, what with his arm still bound to him and being so sore that he could barely move.

The day had been a complete blur due to the strong potion Madame Pomfrey had given him that morning immediately after his breakfast and right before she started to repair the torn muscles, tendons and ligaments surrounding his recently mended collarbone.

He had slept through the entire painful process and well into the afternoon and had only recently awoke to find Hermione and Ron there at his bedside.

Harry plopped his head down on the pillow, exhausted from his excursion to the loo. "God I hate being messed up."

Hermione pulled the covers over him, "Did Madame Pomfrey say how long you'll have to stay in here?"

"Just a couple of days," he said through a sigh. "At least I'm not missing any classes …" Harry stopped mid-sentence as he just realized something. "Wait a minute — what day is it?"

"It's Saturday Harry," Hermione stated matter-of-fact, "yesterday was Friday and tomorrow is ..."

"Ha, ha," he cut her off. "What I meant was – why are you still here? You should be on the Hogwarts Express, halfway to London by now."

"Everyone had to stay and get checked out," said Ron as he stretched out his long legs and put his feet up on the bed. "Y'know, to make sure none of us were Imperiused."

"And?"

"Everyone's fine," Hermione answered as she scanned the stack of papers she held.

"Well, that's good I guess." He glanced over, "What's all of that?"

"She looked up and beamed, "This is my application to Oxford. I have to submit it by the beginning of the year."

Harry's eyes grew wide, "Oxford? I didn't know you were planning on going there."

"Yes, their magical division has a fabulous Ancient Runes program. I'm so excited."

"And," chimed Ron, "since the three of us are gonna be in London going to school, maybe we can all share a flat. Wouldn't that be cool?"

Harry suddenly felt as though a train had barreled on by and left him standing on the platform. "I've been so busy with my training, I never thought about where I'd stay during Auror training," he said and then gasped. "Wait a minute … when do we have to get our applications in?"

"Don't worry mate, not until June. We have plenty of time."

Just then they heard the Infirmary doors open followed by the sound of familiar voices.

"Is that your Mum and Dad?" asked Harry

"Yep, they're here for some meeting. Probably they just want to see how you're doin."

"Harry dear!" Mrs. Weasley extolled as she came into view from around the privacy screen.

"Hi !" Harry said as she hugged him gently and kissed him on his forehead.

"Harry, my boy," Arthur Weasley was all smiles. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay Sir. A little sore, that's all."

Molly proceeded to ask the teen about his injuries and what treatments Madame Pomfrey had performed. Where did he hurt? She had to check his bandages —

"Mum! Give the poor man a break," Ron came to Harry's defense.

"Here Molly," Arthur summoned a chair for her. "Why don't you sit down then we can all have a nice chat."

"So how did the meeting go, Dad?"

Mr. Weasley leaned back in his chair, "You know I can't reveal any details, but there was an interesting topic that came up after the meeting."

"What was that, Mr. Wesley?" asked Hermione.

"The subject of your new Defense instructor."

Harry's eyes grew wide with excitement, "Is Channon coming back? Oh my God, this is great!"

"No, no Harry. It isn't Channon, but I believe you'll be very pleased when you hear who it is."

The three teens stared expectantly at Mr. Weasley as he smiled and tapped his fingers on his knees.

"Arthur, stop toying with them and tell them who it is," reprimanded Molly.

"Oh, very well, Molly dear," he said and then addressed the anticipant teens. "You're new Defense instructor is going to be … Remus Lupin!"

It was a good thing Harry was lying down, otherwise he would have fallen over.

Hermione and Ron sounded their happiness and approval over the news.

"Oh, this is wonderful," proclaimed Hermione. "I love Professor Lupin."

"Yeah," added Ron. "He's the best!"

"Harry dear," asked Mrs. Weasley worriedly, "what's wrong? All the color has drained from your face."

Harry's breathing had picked up and the room felt like it was spinning. "Uh, I just feel a little dizzy. Must be that potion from this morning."

"Arthur, go get Poppy …"

"No, I'm fine." Harry put his hand to his to his head in an attempt to stop the spinning.

"Here dear, drink some water." Mrs. Weasley held the water glass to his lips.

He took a few sips then closed his eyes. "I guess it's just been a long day."

"But you slept through most of it," Ron's objection earned him three sets of glares.

"Arthur, perhaps we should tell Harry our other good news."

If the idea of Remus coming back into his life was her idea of good news, Harry didn't want to hear more.

Arthur went over and looked around the privacy screen. There was one other student at the opposite end of the infirmary, in the bed closest to Madame Pomfrey's office. The child looked to be very young and was sound asleep. Even so, he cast a silencing charm just to be safe, then turned back to face the small group. "You tell him, Molly."

Mrs. Weasley took a hold of Harry's free hand. "Harry dear, we had a long chat with the Headmaster and we've worked out a plan."

"A plan?" Harry asked with some trepidation.

She nodded with excitement. "The children are all leaving tomorrow morning to go home for the holidays, and tonight …" She turned to look at her husband, "Why, it's suppertime right now; so I imagine Albus will be making the announcement very shortly."

"I believe you're correct, Molly dear," Arthur confirmed.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all exchanged looks of confusion.

"Mum, will you just get on with it? You're not making any sense!"

"Patience, Ronny," she chastised then turned her attention back to Harry. "Anyway Dear, Dumbledore is going to make an announcement this evening to the student body that you will need to stay in the infirmary throughout the holiday break, and that the Auror from the Ministry will remain on guard so that no one can enter."

So far this 'plan' wasn't sounding good at all. "I have to stay in here all holiday break?"

"No Dear, this is all just a dodge." She smiled and brushed back his fringe. "As soon as Poppy says you can go, you'll Floo up to the Headmaster's office and from there …" she paused and beamed to all those sitting around the bed, "you'll Floo straight to the Burrow."

Ron actually jumped up from his chair. "Harry's coming to the Burrow for Christmas?"

"He is indeed," confirmed Mr. Weasley.

"This is brilliant! Oh Harry, this is going to be great. Finally you get to come home for Christmas!"

Harry didn't know what to think. Ever since he'd met them on Platform 9 3/4, he'd dreamt of how wonderful it would be to spend Christmas with the Weasleys.

Ron had always talked about all the decorations, the Christmas tree with presents piled around the base, the special biscuits, cakes and puddings his Mum made only during the holidays, and their big holiday meal with everyone gathered around the table.

Harry had often imagined being there, being a part of the family and experiencing this wonderful childhood dream — but he was no longer a child , and he had begun to dream of a different holiday, one that included Severus.

"What's the matter dear," asked Molly in response to Harry's silence. "Don't you want to come?"

"Sure I do, Mrs. Weasley," he said and perked up his expression. "It's just such a surprise."

"We should be going Molly," Arthur suggested. "Ron, Hermione, you too; let Harry get some rest."

"We'll stop by and see you in the morning before we leave," Ron said and gave Harry a pat on the foot.

Hermione leaned down and kissed him on top of his head. "See you in the morning."

~SH~

"I really don't think I need it, Madame Pomfrey."

"Harry, I can guarantee that your shoulder is going to keep you awake if you don't take this pain draught," she admonished as she held out the tiny dark blue vial.

"Couldn't you just put it on the nightstand? I can take it later if I need it."

She furrowed her brow, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Harry was adamant. "It's just that stuff makes me dizzy and sleepy."

"But you need your rest."

Harry had learned quite a bit from Severus regarding tactics and strategy, but there was one tactic Severus had taught Harry, quite inadvertently — the fact that his emerald eyes could accomplish miracles. So he lifted up his verdant gaze and gave her _that_ look. "Please?" he implored softly.

It worked like a charm, "Oh … all right." She set the vial on the nightstand. "But don't wait too long. Promise?"

"I promise," Harry sighed with relief. "Thanks Madame Pomfrey. Good night."

"Good night," she said then dimmed the lights and toddled off toward her office.

He waited until he heard the sound of her door close, then he gingerly crawled out of bed, hobbled over and peered around the privacy screen.

The bed where the small child had been was now empty. "Yes," he counted his good fortune and then limped quietly down the length of the ward.

Harry peeked into the darkened office and saw a sliver of light, shining out from under the doorway to Madame Pomfrey's private quarters. He had to wait about ten minutes, but eventually the light vanquished and the sound of another set of doors closing soon followed.

She'd gone to bed — finally.

His bruised hip was manifesting its displeasure at all this walking and tiptoeing, but Harry was determined. Without making the slightest sound, he crept into the Mediwitch's office and over to the Floo, then he scooped up a handful of Floo powder from out of the tin on the mantle and was about to throw it in when he saw three small transparent bags of the red unlocking Floo powder.

So he grabbed one of those for good measure, threw in the powder and whispered "Severus Snape's quarters."

~SH~

Severus stretched out on his couch and took a sip of his Scotch.

He was exhausted from the unbelievably long day he'd just endured. First there had been the assessments that morning, then that insufferable meeting with the Ministry and the Order, followed by the news that the Werewolf was returning to teach and to top it all off — it had been impossible for him to go see Harry.

How could he explain another night's vigil to Poppy? He couldn't, so instead he had poured himself a drink and hoped that he'd at least be able to see Harry tomorrow before he left for Tuscany.

Severus had just taken another sip when his Floo flared and spit out the young wizard whom then landed in a heap on the hearth rug.

"Harry!" Severus jumped up and ran over to him. "Has something happened?"

"No," he managed as he tried awkwardly to get into a sitting position. "I just had to see you."

Severus stared astounded at him. "Are you certain your injuries didn't include one to your better judgment?" He began to admonish Harry but before he could utter another word Harry grabbed Severus by the collar, pulled the man to him and kissed him for all he was worth.

Severus was at first startled by the amorous onrush, but the feel of Harry pressing against him and the intensity of his kiss soon had him lying down on the rug and taking Harry with him.

Severus carefully wrapped his arms around the narrow torso and returned the kiss with passion. He felt the flick of a tongue and so he parted his lips to welcome Harry in.

For Harry, the dizziness he'd experienced from that potion was nothing compared to the swirl that washed over him as he felt Sev's tongue slip inside his mouth.

It was as if they'd been starving for each other as they devoured one another with hungry kisses. Their passion lasted a blissfully long stretch of time then lulled but intensified again, only this time their kisses were playful and inquisitive as they explored the sculptured edges of teeth, the soft arch of a brow; Severus even found that little spot, right behind Harry's ear.

"Oh God, yes," Harry moaned as he felt the talented tongue flick and swirl, while beneath him Severus grew larger and harder. It was nearly more than Harry could bear as everything around him began to spin.

"Sev?"

"Yes?" he whispered through a kiss.

"I think I'm gonna pass out."

After a moment to gather his senses, Severus repositioned Harry so that he was on his back. He then summoned a pillow which he placed under Harry's legs and then covered him with a blanket.

Next, he summoned the glass of Scotch. "Take a small sip of this," Severus whispered anxiously as he pressed the drink to Harry's lips.

It burned as it went down but it cleared away the flurry in his head.

"Lay still and rest a moment." Severus carded his hand through the shock of hair and looked down at the man whom he'd come to care for — far too much. "Harry, what am I going to do with you?"

"What d'you mean?"

Severus closed his eyes and sighed. "This is all my fault."

"No it isn't. It's not your fault and it's not my fault; it just … is." He took a hold of Sev's hand. "And you're not going to deny that this exists, Sev - not anymore."

Severus leaned forward so that he was only inches from Harry and gazed for the longest time into his beautiful eyes. "I promise you, that I won't deny _us_, any longer. But we have to be careful."

"I can do that," Harry's voice was breathy with expectation.

"How did you manage to Floo down here tonight?"

His eagerness suddenly caught in his throat. "Um, well …"

"What?"

"Well I, uh … waited until Madame Pomfrey went to bed, then I stole some of her Floo powder." Harry cringed at Sev's shocked expression.

"How do you expect to get back? I'm certain her Floo is still locked."

Harry held Severus' gaze as he pulled out the little bag of unlocking powder from the pocket of his pajama bottoms. "I … also stole this."

Severus lowered his forehead and rested it on Harry's. "Merlin, help me."

"Listen Sev," Harry cupped his hand under Sev's chin, encouraging him to look at him. "I _had_ to see you. I dunno what to do; I'm supposed to go to the Weasleys for Christmas, but I want to stay here with you."

"But I won't be here."

"What?" Harry pulled back slightly with a sudden pang of hurt. "Why? Where are you going?"

"I always go to my villa during the holiday break. The olives are harvested in the late Fall; I must go and inspect the crop. I do this every year," he added, as if that would wipe away Harry's disappointed expression.

"Okay, I remember you telling me about the olive trees, but I guess I never really thought about what was involved." Then he had an idea. "I could come with you -"

"Harry, look at you … you're injured."

"But …"

"No, now listen." Severus softened his stern words with a kiss and then lingered nearby as he continued. "Go to the Burrow; let Molly take care of you. It's only for two weeks, and I promise that after you finish school, we'll both go to the villa."

"All right," he sighed in defeat. "But when you get back, you have to figure out some way so that we can see each other, cause' I can't keep going on the way we've been."

Harry moved in for another long, deep kiss then reached out to touch that hard length, but he was deterred by a firm yet caring grasp.

"No."

"But …"

"You nearly passed out from just kissing, can you imagine what would happen if you orgasmed?"

"It would be worth it."

"_And_," Severus lingered on the word for emphasis, "we still have the challenge of getting you back to the infirmary, unnoticed."

Harry couldn't deny Sev's logic, so he settled for a huff of frustration. "Oh, all right."

"But there is something I wish to ask you before you leave."

"Yeah?" Harry was keeping his hopes up, amongst other things.

"Why didn't the Dark Detector alert you to danger yesterday when you were in Priestly's presence?"

"Oh," he hadn't expected that. "Well I didn't have it with me; I usually keep it in my trunk."

"And why is that?" Severus asked stonily. "You don't like it?"

"Of course I like it. I just don't want to break it, like I did the amulet."

"What good is a Dark Detector if you don't keep it on your person?"

"But what if I have one of those surges … ?"

"Then we'll get you another one." Exasperated, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Harry, please promise me that you'll keep it with you at all times."

"I'm sorry Sev. I promise — I'll keep it with me from now on."

The clock chimed the hour, reminding them of the precariousness of the situation.

"We'd better get you back before Poppy discovers you missing."

"We?"

Severus helped Harry get to his feet then held him close as the dizzy young wizard found his balance. "Yes 'we.' Do you expect me to send you off in your present condition? No doubt Poppy would awake in the morning to find you lying on her office floor."

Harry couldn't dispute the fact that he did have trouble with Floo travel and that he was still lightheaded. "You're right, I guess."

He relished in the feel of Sev's secure embrace as they Floo'd to Madame Pomfrey's office. They then managed to successfully make their way out of the office and down the length of the ward — undetected.

With Harry now in bed and under the covers, Severus sat down next to him and leaned in for one last moment together before they separated for the holiday break.

"I love your eyes, Sev."

Harry always had a way of doing this to Severus — saying something unexpected that would make him feel off-kilter. "You do?"

"They're so dark, it's like you can hide all kinds of secrets and thoughts behind them."

Harry's declaration stirred Severus' heart and inspired him to voice a long held secret. "I love your eyes also, Harry. I always have." He lightly brushed his thumb across one of Harry's brows. "I could easily drown in your eyes."

They kissed once more; it was unhurried and full of sincerity, and then it ended.

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

"Happy Christmas, Sev."

~SH~


	33. Clothes Stay On

**33. Clothes Stay On**

Harry sat perched on the sill of Ron's bedroom window and stared out at the bluish shadows cast from the light of the low hanging moon; stretched across the crusted snow, they seemed like wintery ghosts, laying in wait for the dawn.

He caught sight of a gray fox; it was slinking silently from shrub to tree in search of food and as it moved nearer to the garden, several of the gnomes began to scurry and run for cover.

Ron chose that particular moment to let out a loud snore that startled Harry from his observations; when he looked back, he saw that the fox and the gnomes had vanished and all that remained was a flurry of snow, drifting silently back down to the crystal surface.

It was nearly midnight and the Burrow was uncharacteristically still, a stark contrast to the hubbub of the past two weeks.

Christmas with the Weasleys was all Ron had described and everything Harry had ever imagined: the decorations and special foods, the holiday spirit and feeling of love, conversations with the twins, Bill, Charlie — the entire Weasley offspring had come for the special holiday, all save for one.

Harry ran his hand over the bright green jumper Mrs. Weasley had knit for him. It was thick and warm and had a magical woven Snitch that moved about the garment at will. He tried to touch the precocious piece of yarn but it fluttered quickly away and caused the teen to smile.

He leaned back his head back and let it thump against the window sill as he continued to fret about this and that: missing Severus, the recently attempted abduction, his upcoming NEWTs, and the return of Remus.

Part of him wanted to believe that Remus had maybe forgiven him for Sirius' death and might now allow him in his life. But even if he had, that would mean trusting that Remus wouldn't disappear again — and Harry was having a hard time believing that Remus would stick around this time.

He had tried to talk to Ron about Remus, but Ron just didn't get it.

_Listen Harry_, Ron had said. _You know he had to travel a lot for the Order, but now he'll be at Hogwarts. Talk to him; get to know him better._

Yeah well, that was easier said than done.

Tired of listening to Ron snore and giving up on the prospect of sleep, Harry slid off the sill, tiptoed out of the bedroom and headed down to the kitchen for a cup of warm milk or perhaps something stronger.

But when he stepped into the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of Mrs. Weasley, sitting in her rocker by the hearth. The light from the fire reflected upon her face and Harry could tell that she was crying.

He hung near the doorway, hesitant to disturb her private moment.

"Harry …you're still up?" she asked as she quickly brushed the stray tears.

"I, uh … couldn't sleep." He walked tentatively over to join her. "Are you all right, Mrs. Weasley?"

She sniffed, "You know me, I cry at the drop of a hat."

He sat down across from her and debated briefly, whether or not to ask what he thought the real reason was. "You're crying cause' of Percy… aren't you?"

Molly's pasted smile fell from her face.

"It's my fault," he whispered. "Percy would've come for Christmas if I weren't here."

"You mustn't think that, Dear."

"But it's true," Harry said and looked off to the fire.

Molly dabbed away her sniffles and moved over to sit next to him. "Now you listen to me," she said and took hold of his hand in both of hers. "Percy was wrong about you and the return of You Know Who. He knows it, just as he knows it was wrong to turn away from us and to discredit you."

"Then why …?"

"Because he's embarrassed," she said adamantly, "and he hasn't found it within himself yet to face us, or to face you. Percy owes you an apology," she said and watched Harry as he thought about her words. He was nearer to the hearth than she and the fire behind him framed his face and she noted the faint stubble of hair along his jaw and upper lip.

"You're growing up so fast. Soon, you and Ron will start Auror School and your adult lives." The little Snitch caught her eye briefly, as it swooped up over Harry's shoulder then disappeared down his back.

"I'm so very proud of you Harry dear; you must always know that we love you and that this is your home. You're part of this family, don't you ever forget that."

Her words caused his heart to stir and motivated him to tell her how much he cared for her. She had been the closest thing to a mother he could ever remember, someone whom had stood by him during his depression, but it was all too much to put into words, so he instead hugged her and whispered, "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

~SH~

Severus stared at the low winter moon as it inched its way slowly across the Tuscan night sky.

He was wrapped in thought, trying to determine how best to handle his relationship with Harry. Severus could barely stand being so far away from Harry, unable to touch or kiss him.

But as much as all of this was real, the fact that Harry was still a student was also real and something Severus simply could not ignore.

So, what to do?

He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of the Primitivo he had been nursing all evening.

Obviously, avoiding Harry's advances hadn't worked and in the end it was he, Severus, who had initiated the first kiss. No doubt he had been in shock that night over the attempted abduction. But it didn't matter why; all that mattered was that it had happened — finally. And now, here he was with this dilemma.

Could he set aside his conviction that one simply did not have an affair with a student? No, he couldn't, nor could he ignore the promise he had made or the cold hard truth that Harry's life continually hung upon a slender, precarious thread. One mistake, one wrong decision and that life, that person who loved Severus, the only person Severus had ever loved would be gone, forever.

Severus set down his glass and rested his chin upon the tips of his steepled his fingers.

The door to their physical relations had been opened. Their mutual need could not wait any longer, but until Harry finished school there would have to be a limit. He would have to hold this wanting, green eyed wizard at bay for the next few months; and wouldn't that be a delightfully tantalizing challenge to undertake~

~SH~

Remus slid the last book into place and turned to cast an appraising eye at his office. It was glaringly sparse as he didn't have many belongings. The important thing was that the classroom was ready. The students would return from their holiday break the next day, Sunday, and then classes would resume Monday.

Truth be told, Remus was excited. He loved to teach and he loved the sense of belonging he received at being around the students and living at Hogwarts. He and Dumbledore had worked out a plan to deal with his lycanthropy. Everything was in order, or at least nearly in order; he was still at a loss over how to rectify things with Harry.

The distance between them was his fault and he knew it. All of Harry's life, Remus had run away: from his affliction, from his failures and his losses. He'd never been there for the boy except during his third year at Hogwarts. Remus had treasured those weeks with Harry and he wished they could have had more time together. It had been too good to last and in the end he had very nearly killed Harry, and he would have if it hadn't been for Severus and Sirius … _Sirius_.

Remus shook his head to clear away the memory of Sirius. He couldn't allow himself to start thinking about him. That was then and this was now. No doubt Harry despised Remus for his continued absence, but perhaps it might not be too late to make it up to him.

~SH~

It was Sunday morning and time for Arthur to take Ron and Ginny to London and Kings Cross Station. They would return with all the other students on the Hogwarts Express, but Harry, who had supposedly spent the Holiday break in the infirmary, would return to the castle via the Floo.

"Why can't we just Floo back with Harry?" argued Ron.

"You know why son," countered Arthur. "This is all part of the dodge. You and Ginny have to play your part. We've nearly succeeded in pulling this off. If we can prove to Dumbledore that Harry is safe here, then perhaps he'll let Harry come for Easter as well."

The prospect of Harry being able to come once more quelled any further argument.

After they left, Harry picked up his rucksack and moved to stand in front of the Floo. "Well, I guess it's my turn."

"You have all your things?"

"Yeah Mrs. Weasley, I'm all set."

She stepped up to him and gave him a big hug. "You'll remember what I said now, won't you?"

"I'll remember, I promise." He reached around her ample waist and gave her a hug then stepped back feeling a tad awkward, "Well, bye."

"Bye-bye, Harry dear. Good luck on your NEWTs."

"Oh yeah, they're just a month away."

"Study hard."

"I will. Bye," he said then grabbed a handful of powder and threw it into the Floo. "Albus Dumbledore's office."

~SH~

Harry actually stepped out of Dumbledore's Floo rather than falling, thanks to a bit of advice from Severus: _Try to focus your sight on one spot._

He had planned on hightailing it straight to Gryffindor tower to fetch his Marauder's Map to see if Severus had returned yet, but his plans were quickly squashed.

"Harry my boy," called out a delighted Dumbledore. "How was your holiday at the Burrow?"

"Brilliant, Sir" he responded as he headed for the door. "Thank you."

"Might you have time for a cup of tea?"

"I … uh …"

"Splendid, come have a seat."

Two cups of tea and half a dozen biscuits later, Harry had told the Headmaster all about his time at the Burrow. Madame Pomfrey popped in to check on his shoulder and gave the all clear for him to resume classes and Quidditch practice. Dumbledore relayed the news that Professor Lupin had invited Harry to rejoin his Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the promise to help him prepare for his upcoming NEWTs.

"What do you think, Sir?" asked Harry — stunned.

"I believe I should ask that question of you, my boy."

"Well, it would be nice to be back in class," Harry placated, "but what about my training with Professor Snape?"

"You may still continue with that."

"Oh …" the teen sighed in relief, "Okay. Is there anything else, Sir? I kind of need to go check on Hedwig."

"No, that was all." Dumbledore stood up, "I am happy that you enjoyed your holidays."

"Yeah, me too. Thank you, Sir." Harry nodded his goodbyes then headed out the door and down the stairs. This unexpected chat had taken a substantial bite out of the day and had left Harry anxious that the Hogwarts Express might arrive before he could finish his visit with Severus.

He ran all the way to the boys' dorm, pulled the map out of his trunk and began to search for Severus' footsteps. Sure enough, there he was in the potions lab, but he wasn't alone.

Harry drew in a sharp breath when he read the name over the second set of footprints positioned next to Severus': Remus Lupin.

~SH~

Hidden beneath his Invisibility Cloak, Harry slunk quietly along the dungeon corridor.

He had to quickly plaster himself against the wall when two third year Slytherins, whom had stayed during the holiday break, came around the corner unexpectedly and nearly ran smack dab into him.

He stayed perfectly still until the echo of their footsteps faded away, then continued cautiously toward the potions lab.

When he reached the laboratory door, he pressed his ear up against the cool, worn wood, expecting to hear quarreling voices. But all he heard was silence.

_Huh, _he thought and was about to try again when suddenly the doorknob began to turn.

Harry jumped to the side and once again pressed himself flat against the wall then watched with dread as Remus exited the lab, stepped a few feet away from the door, then turned his head slightly — and sniffed.

Harry's heart began to pound. _Stay calm … stay calm …_

Because of his keen canine instincts, Remus knew that Harry was in close proximity. He turned slowly to face what appeared to be an empty corridor and called out softly, "Harry?"

The pregnant silence that ensued passed with an agonizing slowness.

All Harry wanted was to see Severus. He'd already lost much of the afternoon to Dumbledore and he wasn't going to spend the rest of it talking to Remus, so he held his covert position on his now trembling legs and waited for the man to leave.

Remus lowered his gaze but didn't move while he considered the situation. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally turned back around and proceeded on down the hallway.

Harry waited until he heard Remus mount the stairs, then he slid down the wall and exhaled an exhausted sigh of relief. _God, that was close_.

It took a few moments for his legs to stop shaking, and as soon as he could manage it Harry pushed himself back up, slipped into the room, shut the door behind him and added a ward for good measure.

Hearing the door once again, Severus thought that Remus had returned. "In all that Merlin holds dear, what is it you want now Lupin?"

The sound of Severus' voice and the ring of his acerbity washed over Harry like a balm; the trembling in his legs was replaced with a fluttery sensation in his groin as he walked into the office and pulled off the cloak.

Severus slammed the lid on the jar of Wolfsbane when he heard who he thought was Remus, step inside the doorway. "Did you forget …" Severus stopped mid-sentence when he turned and saw who it was.

Harry looked slightly pale, but there was a pink flush to his cheeks and his emerald eyes nearly glowed with intensity. "Harry," he whispered. "I thought you were …"

"I know," Harry finished the sentence and moved toward the stunned wizard. "I missed you."

"Yes, I …"

Harry reached Severus, leaned into the man and wrapped his arms around that delicious ivory neck.

"… did too," was all the eloquent Severus Snape could manage before Harry pulled him down and kissed him soundly.

Severus returned the embrace and deepened the kiss. That terrible longing ache that had plagued him all those long days spent apart vanished. Nothing else existed now but the press of Harry's need, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his tongue and hardness of his cock.

For Harry it was the same. Everything felt right, now that he was wrapped in Sev's arms. A heady feeling enveloped him and he suddenly felt as though he was starving and desperately had to devour every inch of Severus.

He pulled away the bit of leather that held Sev's long black hair and then ran his fingers though the silky thick strands, as his knee traveled up between those endlessly long thighs.

Severus cupped one hand under the curve of Harry's arse and, pulling him even closer, helped his knee find its intended target. Everything started to swirl when Harry began to rub his knee up and down on Sev's aching cock.

With a slight wave of his hand, Harry unleashed the binds that held his own burgeoning want and then gasped with pleasure as those long fingers wrapped around his hard length.

Reality came rushing back and hit Severus like a salty wave from the sea. He sucked in a great lungful of air, "No," he uttered as he grabbed Harry's searching hands and stepped away.

"Take me," Harry panted as he tried in vain to continue their kiss.

Severus captured Harry, wrapping one of his long arms around that lithe torso, then very carefully he used his free hand to close the buttons on those well worn, low riding jeans.

"Sev, what are you doing?"

"We have to talk."

"Now? No …"

"Yes, now."

"But …"

Severus turned Harry around to face him and, taking a hold of each of his arms, he pinned him against the wall. "You must understand my position."

Harry's eyes flared with anger. "You're not going to start that again! You promised you wouldn't deny this!"

"I'm not denying it!" Severus countered, his baritone voice winning out over Harry's tenor. "But we have to set limits."

Harry froze upon hearing that threatening word, "What do you mean — limits?"

"What I mean," Severus sounded out each word adamantly as he was having just as hard a time right now as was Harry, "is that even though we're now …" he tipped his head to the side.

"Yeah, yeah. I know what you're saying. We're physical now with each other."

"Yes, as you so bluntly put it — we're physical with each other; I am still you're teacher and I refuse to have sexual relations with a student."

"You can't mean that! Besides, I've reached majority!"

"But you are still a student."

Harry was fit to be tied. "How come you get to make all the rules?" he shouted.

Severus released Harry's arms then walked over and leaned against the long sideboard. "I told you last year, that this would be difficult."

"But you never said anything about rules!"

"No, as I recall — I said I wouldn't have relations with a student."

He had Harry on that one.

The frustrated young wizard took a couple of deep breaths, in an attempt to quell his anger. "So what're you saying? That we have to set limits or that's it?"

"It's not as cut and dry as that." Severus crossed his arms tightly across his chest. His hardness had softened in the heat of the moment, as no doubt had Harry's.

Harry let out a huff and slumped into Severus' desk chair. He couldn't deny that he had pleaded with Severus last year to give him a chance, and that the man had been very clear about his position on having relations with a student.

"All right Sev," his soft tone of voice reflected his defeat, "we'll do whatever you say," he looked up with determination, "because I refuse to give up on us."

Severus visibly relaxed in response to Harry's words of commitment. He walked over and knelt down next to the upset teen and gently took a hold of his hands. "Kissing is okay, so is touching — but nothing else. And clothes – stay – on."

Harry tightened his grip around the potion stained fingers. "That's gonna be awfully hard." He stared into Severus' dark eyes; they weren't hiding any secrets today — only his clear determination. "Okay, I'll do it. But after I graduate, all limits are off."

Severus raised his eyebrow intriguingly, "I'll hold you to that, Mr. Potter."

~SH~


	34. The Ties That Bind

**34. The Ties That Bind**

Harry mounted the steps to Gryffindor tower and proceeded at a quickened pace toward the Portrait of the Fat Lady. His raging hard-on that had paled during his less than favorable reunion with Severus hadn't completely subsided. He desperately wanted a hot shower and to jack off, then maybe he'd head on down to dinner.

He was about to give the password when the portrait swung open unexpectedly and out stepped Neville.

"Hi'ya Harry."

"Neville!" Harry replied in surprise, "good Holiday?" he asked and then immediately wanted to kick himself for his momentary lapse of judgment.

Christmas was always a depressing event for Neville as he and his Gran would spend the entire day in the Long Term Ward at St. Mungo's visiting his parents.

But instead of the expected forlorn look, Neville beamed, "Yeah, it was great."

"It was?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yeah. Luna and her Dad came for the holidays. My Gran and Mr. Lovegood really hit it off. We went all around London to see the decorations, then on Christmas Day we went and visited my folks." He paused and looked earnestly at Harry. "Luna is so amazing."

"Why? What did she do?"

"Well … you've seen my folks; you know what it's like."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said softly.

"None of that bothered Luna … or her Dad. They chatted it up with my parents like they were normal folks. It didn't matter to them that they were the only ones doing the talking."

"Wow," Harry whispered.

"We took turns," Neville continued. "Gran and Mr. Lovegood talked to my Dad while Luna and I stayed with my Mum, then we switched. You know, Luna is always kind of in her own world anyway, so I think somehow she can relate to my Mum …" He quirked his face, knowing that perhaps his explanation was lacking.

"Don't worry; I understand what you're trying to say," Harry replied. "I'm really happy for you."

"Hallo," Luna said in her singsong voice as she approached the two wizards. She wrapped her arm around Neville and he leaned down to give her a sweet kiss.

"Hi Luna. I hear you had a good Holiday."

"Oh yes, London is marvelous in snow, and Neville's parents are delightful."

Harry was about to comment when the blond haired Ravenclaw asked enthusiastically, "Have you ever seen Mrs. Longbottom's hat?"

"Uh …" the memory of the Boggart imitating Severus dressed in Mrs. Longbottom's clothes immediately sprang into mind.

Neville saw the look on Harry's face and came to his rescue. "Come on Luna, let's go down to dinner; I'm starving."

"Oh, all right." She turned her protuberant silvery gray eyes back to Harry, "Would you care to join us?"

"Thanks … no; I have some things I gotta do," he said evasively.

"Well then, we'll see ya later."

"See ya," he called back and then watched the two lovebirds stroll away, arm in arm, and felt suddenly jealous of them. They didn't have to hide the fact that they were in a relationship, they were bonking each other and they were good for each other.

He turned back to the portrait, "Moonstone," he said forlornly.

As he crossed the empty common room, he thought, A_re Sev and I good for each other? Doesn't matter if we are or we aren't, we can't do anything about the way we feel._

He climbed the stairs to the boy's dorms but when he reached their door, he saw the familiar tie hanging on the door knob. _Not again._

"Oi! Who's ever in there, I need to get my …"

The door flung open to the sight of a thoroughly disheveled Hermione. "Harry!" she squealed and wrapped him in a big hug.

He cringed backward, "Mione — you're blouse."

"Oops," she did up the top couple of buttons as Harry made a beeline for his trunk to stow away his cloak.

"Where the hell have you been?" asked Ron as he got up off his bed. "We looked for you."

"I, uh … had a meeting with the Headmaster."

"You did? But how could you? He was down front greeting everyone as they came in from the carriages."

Harry froze, so did Hermione. She had noticed that his lips were a little swollen and knew immediately where he'd been and what he'd been doing.

"Um … I meant — a meeting with Remus."

Hermione stared piercingly at him and shook her head ever so slightly.

Ron's expression grew hard. "Why are you lying?"

"I'm not lying."

"Harry," Hermione's voice sounded his defeat, "Remus was standing right next to the Headmaster."

Harry shuffled awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"D'you think I'm stupid?" Ron's cheeks started to flush.

"I didn't say that."

"No, you never say anything!" Ron shouted. "You sneak off during the night and in the afternoons; you disappear for hours at a time and when I ask where you've gone — you lie."

"That's not true!" Harry yelled back.

"It is so! It's bad enough that you're keeping secrets from us; then you go and make it worse by lying!

Ron stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him, causing a couple of the prints to fall off the wall and Neville's Mimbulus Mimbletonia to teeter off his nightstand; the terra cotta pot shattered when it hit the floor.

"God dammit!"

"Knock it off, Harry!" scolded Hermione as she went over to repair the pot.

"Why does everything have to be so complicated?" Harry complained as he flopped down on his bed. "I don't know what to do anymore."

Hermione repaired the pot then inspected the odd little plant; it seemed none the worse for wear so she returned both to the nightstand and went over to sit next to her upset friend.

"Don't you think it's time you tell Ron the truth? He's your best friend; you can't keep something this important from him. Look what it's doing to the two of you."

"I wish I could, but you know how he is … that temper of his; he'd probably try to hex Sev."

"There must be some way," she said and got that focused look on her face that always meant trouble.

"Hermione?" Harry sat up, suddenly worried, "what are you thinking?"

"I'm trying to come up with a solution to resolve this mess between you and Ron."

"Well, don't. I'll deal with it on my own."

"And a fine job you've done of it so far." She returned to her pondering and Harry flopped back down on his pillows, knowing he was done for.

~SH~

Harry hovered on the periphery of students whom had gathered around Remus as they warmly greeted their most favorite Defense teacher.

The first DADA class of the spring semester had just finished and despite the pop quiz he'd given them, the students were all delighted at his return. After all, he had arguably been the best Defense teacher they'd had during their seven year tenure at Hogwarts.

"The skills portion is only half of the test," he had reminded the seventh years regarding their fast approaching NEWTs. "The purpose of today's exam is to let me see how versed you are with the material and what areas need attention. On Thursday we will begin our review of the required skills."

Harry watched the relaxed banter between Remus and the teens; the easy comradery was completely opposite to what he'd experienced ever since their awkward encounter in front of the potions lab the previous afternoon. He had intentionally not told Severus about the event, fearing it would have just started another argument. The "clothes stay on" discussion had been bad enough, now it seemed as though he was about to have another difficult conversation, this time with Remus.

The hazel eyes fell upon him for a brief second. Next thing Harry knew, Remus was bidding farewell to the throng of students whom then filed out of the classroom.

They stood and faced each other for a long silent moment. "Thank you for staying," Remus finally said.

"Sure."

"I wish we could have spoken sooner ..."

Harry just bit his lips.

"How are you feeling?" Remus tipped his head and looked toward Harry's shoulder.

"It's fine."

Remus shifted uncomfortably, "I'm sorry that happened to you; it must have been a horrific experience ..."

"Yeah, I wouldn't recommend Portkeying into wards," Harry said and forced a smile.

"Of course not." Another fatly quiet moment ensued. "I'm glad you agreed to rejoin the class," he rallied.

"Yeah me too, except I don't know how well I did on today's test; we haven't spent much time on the written material ... just the skills."

"I won't be scoring today's test, I just need the results as a basis of reference."

Harry nodded silently.

The chasm between them that had grown slowly over the years, had now clearly reached a pinnacle. As much as Remus wanted to reach out to Harry, he felt terribly tethered by the rejection that had taken place only twenty four hours previous when the teen had knowingly stood before him under his Invisibility Cloak, and had simply waited for him to go away.

But Harry was James's son, Sirius' godchild and as much as Remus was hobbled by his own challenges, he did care about the young man and wished with all his heart that things could be different between them. "Is everything all right Harry?"

_Here we go. I knew he'd bring it up. _

No, everything wasn't all right: he'd almost just been kidnapped, his NEWTs were in a couple of weeks and he'd recently been caught out trying to sneak in to have a snog with one of his professors. The persistent voice of guilt for the deaths and injuries that had befallen those who got close to him still harbored a spot in his heart and it told him that Remus held resentment toward him for his stupid mistake that had led to Sirius' death. And the fact that Remus was standing here after months of absence, suddenly concerned about Harry's well-being didn't make any sense whatsoever. So no, everything wasn't all right. "Yeah, everything is fine."

Another rejection made worse now by an outright lie.

Remus forced a supportive smile. "Well, if you ever need to talk to someone, please know that I'm ... available."

Harry's heart nearly stopped at hearing those words. That was exactly what Anthony had said to him, so long ago, that day they had sat on the bench in the boys' locker room. It suddenly seemed very hard to take a breath. "Okay, I'll remember." He shifted about uncomfortably, "I uh ... need to get going."

"Oh all right. Well I'll ... see you later then."

"Yeah, see ya."

Harry grabbed his bag and headed for the door, wanting — no, needing to get out of the room as quickly as possible. Ron and Hermione were waiting on the other side.

"So how did it go?"

Their query was greeted with the back of Harry's robe as he sprinted past them and headed for the stairs.

The two of them caught up with him by the time he'd reached the sixth floor. Hermione grabbed onto his sleeve — then didn't let go. "What happened?"

"Let go."

"No."

"Please."

"I will if you turn around and look at me."

Harry sighed then turned to face her but kept his gaze lowered.

She let go of his sleeve, "Are we or are we not your best friends?"

"That's not the point …"

"Isn't it?" She cast a Muffliato around the three of them. "You keep distancing yourself ..."

"You know why," he interrupted and shot a glance at Ron.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron was still upset over the row they'd had the previous evening. "What the hell did I ever do to you?"

"You haven't done a thing," Hermione defended him then returned her attention back to Harry. "Please, you have to tell him."

"You know I can't." His whispered voice was edged with panic.

She went to take his hand but he pulled back. "Listen," she said undaunted, "I've come up with a solution."

Harry looked at her with trepidation.

"I'm sure it'll work; you just have to trust me."

He hesitated but eventually gave in. "Well, if you're sure …"

"I am. Come on … follow me."

~SH~

"We need a place to talk," said Hermione.

The trio entered the Room of Requirement and stopped in their tracks at the sight that greeted them. No doubt the room had picked up on the desperate timbre of Hermione's voice and it had responded in turn by creating the most welcoming, teen friendly sitting room it could manage. There was a large fireplace with a crackling fire, a thick fuzzy rug and dozens of squishy pillows. The young witch added extra security and silencing charms — just to be safe, and the three of them walked over and sank down on the cushions.

"Sounds like you already know what's going on Mione," Ron's hurt feelings laced his accusation.

"I do, but it's only because I guessed."

His expression turned from one of hurt, to one of accusation. "And you didn't tell me his little secret?"

"It's not a little secret," Harry snapped in reply. He was about to explain how people's lives were at risk, but before he could, Hermione answered.

"He has a valid reason for keeping all of this a secret," she stated emphatically, "but his doing so is affecting your friendship." Her voice heightened, "You're both so bullheaded!" she yelled. "Do you really want things go on the way they've been?"

Her query struck a chord for each wizard. Harry had watched his close friendship with Ron change to a superficial level: Quidditch and classes were all they could talk about, anything more and he'd continually had to lie in order to protect Severus and keep their relationship a secret.

Ron knew that things had changed between them and the way he had dealt with it was to _not_ deal with it. But it ate at him; jokes and lighthearted conversation could only go so far. "So what's your plan?"

She pulled herself up ramrod straight and looked Ron square in the eye, "the Unbreakable Vow."

Ron stared back at her aghast. "Are you barmy?"

"That's a brilliant idea Hermione!" Harry felt like a ton of bricks had just been lifted off his shoulders.

"You're both barmy," Ron declared. "Why is it that she can know your secret outright, but I have to make the Unbreakable Vow?"

"Because you're going to have a really hard time knowing the truth … that's why," Harry said flatly.

Ron was fit to be tied. All of this to save a friendship? It seemed so unfair. And to make the Unbreakable Vow — he'd never done anything like that before in his life. But on second thought, perhaps he had.

He could have died flying on a Thestral when he'd accompanied Harry to the Ministry two summers ago; and he almost _had_ died from that brain tentacle thing. If he had it to do over again would he have chosen not to go? No, of course he would have gone — just as he had chosen to stand by Harry's side time and time again. They were best mates and Ron would do anything for Harry.

His posture relaxed as he realized and accepted the truth. "All right, I'll do it."

The fact that Ron would knowingly put his life on the line for their friendship was a huge declaration that left Harry nearly speechless. "I, um ..." he struggled to find the words to convey what he was feeling.

Ron had to look away, "Let's just get on with it."

"All right then," Hermione's voice broke the heartfelt moment. "I'll be the Bonder."

Ron and Harry scooted closer and paused to look at each other. The significance of what they were about to undertake stared them back in the face as they grasped a hold of each other's hand.

Hermione placed the tip of her wand upon their linked hands, "Remember Harry, whatever you ask of Ron, you need to do it separately."

"Okay," he said and then collected his thoughts before he proceeded with the vow. "Will you keep what I'm about to tell you, a secret?" His voice shook as he spoke.

"Yeah, I will."

A strand of fire emerged from Hermione's wand and began to wrap itself around their joined hands.

"And even though it's hard, will you try to be supportive?"

Ron didn't like the sound of that one, since he didn't know to what it was he was agreeing to be supportive of, "I will."

A second tendril of red shot from her wand and entwined itself with the first.

"And if you can't understand the decision I've made, will you ask Hermione to try and explain it to you?"

Ron's jaw dropped at this last request. "I will," he grumbled.

All three watched in wonder as the third and final glowing filament burst forth and joined the first two to make the joined strand a thick, fiery bond.

After a brief time, the carmine rope disappeared, leaving Harry and Ron to stare at their clasped hands.

They quickly let go and shifted backward on their pillows.

"Now what?" asked Harry, feeling suddenly awkward.

"Now you tell me what the big secret is, you dolt."

"Okay, well, here it is." He folded his arms in front of him, but that must have looked too vulnerable for both his friends suddenly stared at his arms. He dropped them to his lap and took a deep breath. "I'm in a relationship."

Ron stared, "That's it? That's why I signed my life away?"

The mega silence that greeted him pointed out that he was obviously missing something. "So … who's the lucky guy?"

"S …" The word caught in Harry's throat. He blew out a sigh through his pursed lips, forced down a very dry swallow then tried again. "It's Severus."

"Severus?" Then it hit him and Ron's eyes grew unbelievably wide. "Snape? You're seeing … Snape?"

Ron got up and began to pace around the room. "I don't believe it. You've gone bonkers! How could you possibly be attracted to that greasy …?"

He stopped suddenly and clutched at his chest.

"Oh God, what have I done?" Harry jumped up and ran to his side. Hermione was there before him.

"Ron, you must try to understand. Do it now before it's too late!"

"But I don't! I can't!" He dropped to his knees and grimaced in pain.

Hermione nearly throttled Harry in her desperation. "Explain it to him!" she yelled in a shrill tone. "Hurry!"

His teenage insecurities completely forgotten, Harry grabbed a hold of Ron's shoulders and pushed him up. "He knows me better than anyone else … the same as I know him. I know all of his secrets and all of his weaknesses and he knows the same about me. Please Ron, you've got to try and understand!"

Harry didn't realize it, but tears had started to run down his cheeks. "He's so smart about all kinds of stuff, and he's funny and …" Harry managed to stop before he extolled Severus' physical attributes.

Ron grimaced, spurring Harry to give him a couple of good, hard shakes, "I love him!" He shook Ron again, "Do you hear me? I love him ... and he loves me!"

The pain ended as quickly as it had begun. Ron gasped a sudden breath of relief and then collapsed onto his back.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked as Harry stared on in horror, the memory of Sirius falling through the veil shot across his mind.

"I'm okay, Ron panted. "Just give me a second ... to catch my breath."

They hovered over the redhead, worried and anxious. But soon enough, he reached up and pulled Hermione down to lay next to him. "I'm okay … I'm okay."

Harry fell back on his seat. "That was too close. You have to promise not to do that again," he said desperately. "You can't die … you can't."

"Believe me," Ron managed between gulps of air, "I'm with you ... on that one."

Hermione started to cry and Ron pulled her close. It was a private moment for the two of them, so Harry moved to sit over by the fire.

He leaned against the hearth and tucked his legs close to him. He wanted Severus, wanted to feel his strength and assuredness, wanted to be held and kissed — but Sev was at the Fastness tonight, just as he was most nights.

By the time Ron had recovered enough to sit up, nearly twenty minutes had passed. He saw Harry sitting next to the hearth with his arms wrapped around his legs as he stared at the embers with a glazed expression; his earlier tears had dried upon his cheeks.

Ron and Hermione moved over and sat down next him.

"Are you okay Ron?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. You?"

Harry shook his head. "I think we made a mistake … making that vow."

"No Harry, listen ..."

"You almost died Ron. None of this is worth that."

Ron reached out and gently grasped his friend's shoulder; something previously unimaginable was now an easy thing after the intensity of the Unbreakable Vow. "I was angry at you for not trusting me ..."

"It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that ..."

"I know what you're gonna say — that when I lose my temper, sometimes I don't make the best decisions ... right?"

Harry sagged, "Yeah."

"I admit I don't get it — you and Snape," then Ron took a hold of Harry's other shoulder and turned him so that they faced each other, "but I'm your mate, and I'll do my best to try and understand."

Harry gulped down a reluctant swallow, "There really is more to him then he lets people see," his words bounced along his shaky voice, "but he wouldn't want me to talk about him."

"That's okay. If you say he's a good bloke, then that's good enough for me."

Hermione watched these two young men who she loved with all of her heart, and sighed, "Boys."

~SH~


	35. Redemption

**12. Redemption**

"Uh, oh …"

"What?" Ron asked and leaned over to inspect Hermione's copy of The Daily Prophet. "Don't tell me You Know Who is blowing up Embassies again."

"No, it's not that." She pointed down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. "Look at Harry."

Ron leaned back on the bench to get a better view and saw Harry walking towards him with a hard set expression.

"His meeting with the Headmaster must not've gone well."

"We'll find out soon enough," Ron replied and then budged over to make room for Harry who sat down between them and huffed.

Everyone who sat nearby looked on with curiosity while Neville poured him a cup of tea, "Here Harry, have some of this."

"Thanks Nev." He took a sip and then set the cup down with a thud.

"So … ah, what'd the Headmaster want?" Ron asked cautiously.

"They want to hold a graduation ceremony this year," Harry replied as he stared down at his drink.

"I wonder why?" asked Ron.

"I imagine it's because Harry is graduating," Hermione reasoned. "Am I right?"

Harry bit his lips and nodded. "It's the Minister's idea. He's gonna be there and have the press come and do a big article and take pictures."

"I can just see the headlines," Ron said and then swung his hand in a slow arc. "BOY WHO LIVED FINISHES HOGWARTS- NOW READY TO TAKE ON 'YOU KNOW WHO'."

"That's not the worst part."

"What could be worse than that?" asked Ginny.

"I have to give a speech," Harry said, feeling a tad nauseous, "titled 'Grasping the Future'."

Everyone grimaced, all save for Hermione.

"Oh, I think this is a marvelous idea," she exclaimed.

"Have you gone mental?" Harry stared at her in disbelief.

"No, think of it, everyone reading your words about determination and not giving in to Voldemort."

The several individuals who'd listened in on the conversation all cringed in unison.

"It would be an inspiration," she finished encouragingly.

"But Mione, I've never done anything like that … given a speech. Getting up and talking to a crowd of people … I don't know. Besides, what am I gonna say?"

"I could help you write it, if you want."

As he had walked down from the Headmaster's Tower, Harry had thought about asking Hermione for help; the fact that she had offered saved him the embarrassment of asking, "You'd do that?"

"Of course, silly."

"All right then," Harry sighed with relief. For the first time since he'd been given the daunting task, he felt as though he could finally take a breath. "Thanks Mione."

"Just leave it to me," she said and then got that look determined look as she conjured a piece of paper and began to outline the topics. "Let's see, we should open with …"

"You're gonna have to save that for later," interrupted Ron as he tossed a piece of toast and some bangers onto Harry's plate.

"Why?" asked Hermione.

He nodded to the swarm of students leaving the Great Hall. "The match is gonna start in less than an hour and I wanna get good seats."

The match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin was the second to last in the Quidditch series. As things stood, Gryffindor and Slytherin were nearly neck and neck in points, so a Hufflepuff win would work to Gryffindor's advantage. And aside from the needed points, everyone was looking forward to this match after the intensity of the OWLS and NEWTs. With the end of year exams less than a month away, this Saturday of Quidditch was just the respite the students needed.

"Oh, you're right," she vanished the paper. "Bring that with you Harry; Ron's right, we need to get going."

"That's okay, I'm not hungry." He rose from off the bench to join Ron, leaving his food untouched.

Hermione shrank the food and put it in her purse, knowing that Harry's hunger would probably catch up with him sometime during the match.

~SH~

A thermal of warm air rose up the side of the castle and brushed past Remus' face as he leaned out the open window to watch the players fly over the distant stands.

He would have enjoyed attending the match; not only had the close point count made this year's series a thrilling one, but perhaps the events of the match might afford light topics of conversation for he and Harry to discuss.

It was May and in the past four months, Remus had made very little headway with regards to Harry. Soon the year would be over and the young wizard would move on with his adult life; what chance would Remus have then to bridge the cavernous gap that had grown between them.

"Ready Professor?" Hagrid's booming voice startled Remus from his thoughts.

"Not quite," he said and closed the window. "Please come in, I'll be ready in a moment."

The half-giant squeezed through the doorway.

"My apologies, I was lost in thought," Remus offered as he walked over and took up the goblet containing the Wolfsbane potion; the characteristic blue smoke wafted inches above the rim.

"Don't you never mind. I'm in no hurry," Hagrid said cheerily. "Fang is right happy tis full moon t'night. He enjoys yer company, he does."

Remus chuckled lightly, "And I his." He drank the potion then set down the goblet. "I want to thank you again, for taking me in and watching over me when …"

"Now, now Professor … there's no need t' thank me. Y'er right behaved when ya take that potion."

"Well, at least there's that," he answered with a halfhearted grin. "I suppose I'm ready to go now."

"Then let's git to er'," Hagrid offered brightly.

The two wizards exited the castle and made their way towards Hagrid's stone cabin.

It had been Dumbledore's idea for Remus to spend full moons with Hagrid and Fang. As long as he took the Wolfsbane potion, he was able to retain his intelligence while in his werewolf form and needed only a safe place to stay where he wouldn't feel threatened.

Hagrid and Lupin had started to descend the steps cut into the hillside, when they heard a roar of cheers rise up from the crowd-filled distant pitch.

"Rubius, you're close to Harry …"

"Not as much as when he were a young'n," the half giant interjected. "Guess he's busy with this n' that," he finished wistfully.

"I'm afraid I …" Remus' voice trailed off.

"Go on," Hagrid encouraged.

"I have trouble communicating with him."

When they had reached the cottage, Hagrid opened the door for Lupin to enter. Fang immediately came bounding over and nearly knocked Remus off his feet.

"Hello Fang," he said softly.

"Av' a seat there n' I'll make us some tea, then we'll av' ourselves a nice chat." Hagrid placed the kettle on the stove, "Ya shouldn't worry so much Professor; them teenagers … their just a hard lot t'figure out."

~SH~

Severus levitated the last cauldron into the cupboard then looked about the lab; all was in order.

The special request from the Dark Lord had required an entire night of brewing that had now made the Head of House late for his duties at Hogwarts. The match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff was about to get underway and he was hard pressed to return to the castle as quickly as possible.

"Our Lord will see you now."

The house elf's squeaky voice surprised Snape and he turned with a start only just in time to see the small creature vanish.

"Now what can he want?" Severus sighed.

Moments later, he stood before the closed doors of the large reception hall. When they opened he began his bow but paused at the sight of Lucius Malfoy who, as he walked past, chanced a brief glance of warning; his focused expression and occluded mind were signals for Severus to be on his guard.

"Do come in," the Dark Lord's silky voice glided across the vast hall.

Severus took a brief moment to scan the room then lowered his sights and approached the dais. "My Lord called for me?"

Voldemort remained silent as he regarded the man kneeling before him.

In his vast army of Death Eaters, only a select handful had proven themselves worthy to be ranked at an elevated status and their reward were assignments that required intellect rather than brawn.

Severus was among this elite group and his appointment to spy upon Dumbledore and Potter, Voldemort's two worst enemies, put the statuesque wizard at an even higher designation, leaving him literally no margin for error in the performance of his duties.

"Tell me Severus, is there any information you may have forgotten to report?"

Severus' heart skipped a beat, "Regarding …?"

"Do not play games with me," his tone of voice hinted at danger.

"I would never do such a thing. I am however, at a loss as to what my Lord is referring," he kept his eyes fixed upon the floor.

Voldemort paced his approach, "Not what, but whom."

Severus' silence only irked the evil wizard.

"What is your mission, Death Eater?"

"To report to my Lord, matters dealing with Potter, Dumbledore and the Order." Severus recited his assignment verbatim.

"Exactly."

Severus searched his mind behind his wall of Occlusion. What was it the Dark Lord wanted? What had he overlooked? "If my Lord would only clarify …"

Before he could finish his sentence, a blast of pain ripped through Severus' entire being. It was as if every part of him had suddenly been set on fire.

The pain lasted a few moments and then stopped suddenly, but somehow in that brief period of time Severus had been thrown to the opposite side of the room. He lay crumpled on his side, shaking uncontrollably.

"I ask you once again, what news of Harry Potter have you neglected to report?"

So this was about Harry. But there was so much regarding the young wizard that was being kept secret: his enormous powers, his training, his visits to the Burrow and more.

"Please my Lord," Severus could barely get the words out, "I have … reported all valid … information regarding …"

"Stop!" Voldemort commanded. "You said 'valid' information."

"Yes … my Lord," Severus managed between his panting breaths.

The Dark Lord walked over and knelt down beside his crumpled servant, "Then I shall rephrase my question." He reached out and slid his fingers down the length of Severus' hair. "Is there any information regarding Harry Potter that that is not yet validated?"

In that instant, what had been many choices were now narrowed to one. "There are discussions … as to his … living arrangements … once he finishes school."

Voldemort tightened his grip on the ebony length and pulled it to lift Severus' face into view. "Continue," he hissed.

Severus ground out the preliminaries of Scrimgeour's plan to furnish Harry with an apartment near Ministry Headquarters, protected by a Fidelius charm, for him to use while he attended Auror School.

"And you chose to withhold this information?" He abruptly let go of Severus' hair then hit him with another round of the Cruciatus curse.

Severus writhed on the floor in agony as Voldemort strode about the room, livid over this monumental disappointment in one of his key servants. But he needed answers.

"Where is the location of this apartment?" he asked after abruptly ending the curse.

Even though the curse had ended, all of Severus' nerves still felt as though they were on fire, a bonus gift from the Cruciatus. "There is no… preliminary … all conjecture," he gasped for air. "Nothing decided. Potter does not want … refuses …"

"Why is he refusing? Tell me now!"

But the Dark Lord would have to wait for his answer as Severus succumbed to the pain and lost consciousness.

~SH~

_"Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French,_

_And some'll swallow tay and stuff fit only for a wench;"_

Remus whined with exasperation as Fang placed a paw over the top of his head.

_"But I'm for right Jamaica till I roll beneath the bench,_

_Says the old, bold mate of Henry Morgan." **_

Hagrid finished the song then tipped forward and hiccuped when his chair came down hard on the wooden planked floor. "Tis a right fine song," he said and hiccuped. "Ready fer another?"

Remus sat up, raised his muzzle resolutely to the air and howled in protest; Fang slunk off to hide behind the bed.

"All right, another un a comin up. But first I have to drain my lizard."

The half giant staggered to the door, "Now you two be good 'n don't move till I get back." He unlocked the padlock, pulled back the bolt then started down the few front steps.

A clatter of noise drew the werewolf's attention, and he padded over to investigate. Using his snout to push the door back open, he saw Hagrid sprawled on the grass with a smile upon his face — passed out cold.

Suddenly, a strange growling screech emanated from the nearby edge of the Forbidden Forest, followed by what sounded like a human cry.

He cast his canine eyes upon the area where he thought the sound had emanated and saw faint movements just past the tree line.

Part of him, his human side knew he should stay right where he was, but the wolf felt challenged.

Fang crept out from around the corner of the bed and whined to his friend not to go.

But Remus snarled in response, telling the enormous dog to go back to the corner and mind his own business.

His curiosity peaked and the temptation too great to ignore, Remus trotted down the steps and then cantered off toward the Forbidden Forest.

~SH~

Severus barely recalled making his way to the reception room let alone Portkeying out of the Fastness, but his disgust left a marked impression when he arrived at the shack and saw Goyle sitting at the puny Guard's desk.

"Hallo Professor. D'you need some help Apparating back to the castle?"

To be seen in such a state, by an individual with whom he held such contempt was intolerable.

"Not if I wish to arrive in one piece," he managed and then girded himself against the residual pain, turned and Apparated.

He knew his destination; his determination and deliberation were sincere, but unfortunately his strength was lacking and it caused Severus to arrive several hundred yards shy of the front gates, which in turn placed him several hundred feet inside the Forbidden Forest.

It was full moon this night, one month before the Spring Equinox and the creatures of the forest were roused and unquiet.

He lost his footing and fell. That old injury to the nerve in his leg had been aggravated by the Cruciatus and had left his leg slightly numb and weak.

The mossy floor was cool against his aching body; it lured him to stay and rest but he knew it would be too dangerous to remain in the forest this night.

Against the protest of sore limbs and achy muscles, Severus pushed himself up to a standing position and began to limp toward the castle but his path was blocked when a long Bicorn appeared from out of nowhere.

With trembling arms and hands, Severus tried to reach for his wand but before he could cast a spell, the creature charged him and took a bite as she passed; her razor sharp teeth easily tore through the many layers of cloth.

Severus cried out in pain and fell back to the ground, inured and vincible.

The Bicorn gulped down the small morsel of food, then turned and screeched her call of attack.

She pawed the ground and was just about to once again charge her prey when an enormous werewolf leapt out from between two trees. It landed on the panther-like creature, knocking her to the ground.

Through snarls and saliva, claws and fangs the two creatures battled as Severus watched the whirl of fury and fur from his haze of pain. He tried valiantly to stand, but couldn't and sank instead back onto the mossy ground, capable only of awaiting his fate.

The werewolf, driven by an unfocused purpose, fought tenaciously even though he himself was now wounded.

A lucky bite tore open the Bicorn's tender throat and blood gushed from the wound, staining her chest in a sheet of red.

The creature staggered a few steps and then fell to the ground. She opened and closed her mouth in a vain attempt to breathe, but the air slipped from her throat as bubbles that swirled in the oozing, pooling blood.

The werewolf watched with a sense of ambivalence as the beast squirmed upon the ground and then died. He felt no anger toward the creature, no rage, no desire to consume — there had only been that curious need to protect.

And then he remembered the human; he turned and saw the man huddled upon the ground as though he were a helpless cub.

They looked upon each other — one in curiosity, the other in terror.

Snape stared up at the enormous wolf creature and, certain that his life was about to end, his thoughts flashed upon Harry and all they had not yet shared.

But then the werewolf did a curious thing.

He padded closer and stared down at the injured wizard. His haunted hazel eyes held no fury, only sadness and it seemed as though somehow, Remus was trying to communicate to him.

Severus reached out his shaking hand and the wolf allowed his touch, but then it backed away and turned to face the forest.

He continued to watch with amazement as the werewolf set its stance, apparently readying himself to stand guard and protect Severus throughout the night from whatever creature might emerge next.

~SH~

"It'll be light soon," said Ron, glancing over at the tall windows.

"Shhhh," whispered Hermione. She nodded to where Harry sat.

He'd finally fallen asleep in the squishy chair by the fireplace; that one had always been his favorite.

"Come over here," Ron mouthed silently and she tiptoed over to snuggle up close with him.

They'd taken turns all night to sit with Harry whom was camped in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for any news about Severus.

He'd been missing for nearly thirty hours now. Slytherin had won their match sans their Head of House, his seat in the Slytherin box conspicuously empty.

Beside himself with worry, Harry had approached the Headmaster after the match had ended with Severus yet to be seen. The old wizard in turn delivered his usual advice — that Severus was skilled in these matters and not to fret. But as night approached and the spy had not yet returned, even Dumbledore acquiesced that something must have happened.

"There's nothing we can do Harry, but wait," the old wizard advised. He promised to contact the young wizard immediately should any news develop and encouraged him to return to Gryffindor Tower to wait.

But as the seconds ticked on and the minutes crept into hours, his vigil grew into an endless night of oppressive worry. Nigh along three in the morning, Harry had had enough.

"I've got to do something! I just can't just sit around and wait any longer. I've got to try and find him."

"And just where do you plan to start?" asked Hermione, afraid that Harry was about to run off and do something foolish.

"I … I don't know, maybe Hogsmead; there's supposed to be one of those shacks somewhere around there."

"Yes, and the Ministry and the Order have been searching for it for weeks now. Please Harry, don't do this. Remember what happened when we raced off to the Minist…" she stopped mid-sentence and slapped her fingers to her lips.

"Hermione!" the shock in Ron's tone of voice reflected Harry's expression. "How could you …"

"I'm sorry." She tried to back pedal, "I can't believe I said that. Please …"

"No. It's okay." Harry had been standing, ready to sprint out the porthole any second. But Hermione's words had nearly knocked the wind out of him, and he sank hard onto the chair. "You're right, I was about to make that same mistake."

"Listen, we're all tired," said Ron. "Maybe we should try and get some sleep."

"You two go on, I can't sleep."

"All right then," Ron sighed and dragged a hand through his mussed up hair. "We'll stay here with you."

"No. Go on. I'll be fine."

"No way, Harry. We're mates and we're gonna stay here with you."

~SH~

"Albus," Phineas called from his portrait. "Albus!" he called a little louder.

"Hmmm?" Dumbledore sat up sleepy-eyed. He'd fallen asleep on his bed fully clothed, having planned on closing his eyes for only a moment or two but looking outside now, he realized that it was nearly dawn.

"He's back, Albus!"

"He is?" Dumbledore stood up, feeling stiff and tired. "Where is he? His quarters?"

"No. Hagrid took them to the hospital wing."

"Hagrid? But he was with …" Dumbledore realized Phineas had said _them_.

"You should have seen it Albus," the portrait continued. "Hagrid walking up the front lawn, one arm wrapped around each man, holding them up if you ask me."

"Each?"

"Snape and Lupin," Phineas said as though Dumbledore should have realized this fact already. "He took both of them to the infirmary. They're both injured."

"Oh dear Merlin, what has happened."

"Shall I let Potter know?"

Dumbledore was halfway out his bedroom door but stopped suddenly in response to the query and wondered how much the portraits knew about Severus and Harry's relationship that he did not. "No. I want to first check on his condition."

"All right, but don't dally. The young man has been quite worried."

"As have we all Phineas … as have we all."

~SH~

In a blaze of light, Fawkes appeared in the boys' bathroom right when Harry had pulled off his clothes to take a shower.

He read the message from Dumbledore regarding Severus' return, threw his clothes back on and ran as fast as he could down to the hospital wing where he slid to a stop just outside the doors to the infirmary.

_Always maintain your composure_, Severus' silky voice echoed his counsel in Harry's mind. The anxious teen drew a steadying breath then stepped inside and saw Madame Pomfrey standing beside the first bed.

She was administering a dose of Skele-Gro to Zacharias Smith, one of the casualties from the previous day's match. "What have you done to yourself now, Mr. Potter?" asked the Mediwitch in response to his disheveled appearance.

"Wha …Who, me? Nothing. I'm here to see Professor Snape."

"Last bed on the right. But he's sleeping so try not to disturb him."

"Yes Ma'am."

The hospital wing had never seemed as long as it did in those next few moments. Finally, he reached the privacy screen but instead of racing around the thing, he stopped.

All he had wanted, for what had seemed like an eternity, was to see Sev. But now that the moment was at hand, he found he couldn't do it.

_What's wrong with me?_

Before he could answer his own question, Dumbledore stepped out from behind the screen. "Harry? Are you all right?"

Harry looked up into the clear blue eyes of the Headmaster. "Sir, is he … all right?"

The last time Albus Dumbledore had seen this look upon Harry's face, was that time in St. Mungo's — in Anthony Goldstein's hospital room, just after the attack on Samhain.

"He's going to be fine."

"Do you know what happened? Where he's been?"

Even though Dumbledore recounted the events in a consoling tone of voice, his words left Harry's heart pounding against his ribs. "And you're certain Remus didn't bite …"

"Quite," he said assuredly. "Remus did not attack Severus; on the contrary - he saved his life."

Harry felt his emotions swell and so he looked away, "Thanks for telling me, Sir."

"You're quite certain that you're all right?"

Harry kept his head turned away and not trusting his voice, merely nodded.

"Very well then, I need to check in on Professor Lupin." Dumbledore nodded his 'good-byes' then walked across the aisle and around the privacy screen just opposite that of Severus'.

Harry inched forward and peered around the screen and his whole being sighed with relief at the sight of the wizard lying on the bed, asleep.

He sat down in the chair next to the head of the bed and studied the familiar face. Severus looked fine — though perhaps a bit paler than usual. Then Harry took a hold of the still hand. It was warm and confirmed to him that Severus was indeed — okay. He wasn't dead. He wasn't going to be in a coma for the rest of his life …

All of a sudden, the stress and worry from the long oppressive night welled up and spilled out in tears that rolled down his cheeks.

Harry's breaths shook as he tried to corral his emotions.

He leaned forward and kissed Severus lightly then brushed back a stray lock of hair that had slid forward over his face. "Oh Sev," the words bounced along Harry's shaky voice.

Severus' lids fluttered partially open, revealing tired, ebony eyes.

"Shhh," Harry whispered. "Go back to sleep." He carded his fingers lightly though the black hair until, without complaint, Severus closed his eyes and slept.

~SH~

Harry stayed with Severus all that day. He fell asleep as he sat by the bed with his head lolled awkwardly off to the side and when he awoke; it was to a sore back, a stiff neck and a pounding headache.

Madame Pomfrey had threatened that if he didn't go to the tower for a 'proper rest', she would issue him a set of striped pajamas and make him sleep there in the infirmary.

So, with a mild pain draught in hand and a promise from Severus that he'd see him in the morning, Harry headed off to the tower to sleep.

Later that evening after all the visitors had come and gone and the infirmary was settled and quiet, Severus sat up in his bed and sipped a cup of tea as he pondered the events of the previous night.

The werewolf had behaved unlike Severus would have imagined.

Though he knew that Lupin had been taking the Wolfsbane potion on a regular basis, some part of Severus had believed that given the chance, Lupin — the werewolf would have attacked and tried to kill him. Perhaps it was the emotional scar of that incident that had jaded his opinion of Lupin — the man. And as Severus thought about this, he realized that he had done the very same thing to Remus as he had with Harry.

Severus sighed as he recognized his mistake.

He had acknowledged his error to Harry, years ago; perhaps it was time now to rectify matters with Remus.

Severus winced as he set down the tea and pulled back the covers.

Standing up and easing on his robe was a painful process; he guarded his arm close to his aching side and limped down the length of bed then across the aisle and stopped just shy of the privacy screen. "Lupin, are you awake?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

"May I speak with you?"

There was a moment's pause, but then he answered, "Yes."

Severus walked around the screen and regarded the man lying before him.

Remus had numerous scratches and wounds upon his face and arms. Those were the only parts of him exposed, there was no telling how many injuries the man had suffered about his body.

Severus limped over and sat down next to the bed. "I hope that your injuries are not too extensive."

"Well, as Poppy said — they're a long way from my heart."

They both tittered at the little joke, both feeling a bit uneasy in the other's presence.

"Lupin, I wish …"

"Please call me Remus."

"Remus," Severus said through a sigh, "I want to thank you for saving my life."

Lupin nodded his acknowledgement.

"I also want to," Severus paused; apologizing still wasn't one of his forte`s. He lowered his head and continued, "I wish to apologize for the erroneous resentment and lack of decorum that I have exhibited toward you, all these years."

It was a good thing Remus was already lying down. He could barely believe what he'd just heard and it took a minute for him to finally respond. "Please Severus, you have to know that I wasn't privy to Sirius' plan. I never would have intentionally …"

"I know," Severus interrupted. "I know that now." He looked unguarded into Remus' hazel eyes, the same eyes that had looked imploringly to him, just the night before. "Can you forgive me?"

Remus eased his sore arm closer and offered his hand in good faith.

Severus raised his own hand, and the two men shook in acknowledgment of their new understanding.

~SH~

**The last verse from Captain Stratton's Fancy, by John Masefield


	36. Before the Storm

**36. Before the Storm **

A group of little first years barreled out of the Defense classroom; some were pouting but most of them sported wide grins, revealing an occasional missing front tooth.

"I got an Outstanding!" exclaimed one of the first boys out the door.

"Me too!" added the little witch to his left. "But Bernard only got an Acceptable."

The first boy turned back in surprise to the sad boy who followed him. "What happened Bernie? We practiced and practiced."

"I couldn't remember which way to swing my wand on Nox," the red-haired boy whined.

"Oh, that's an easy one. All ya do is …" the youngster stopped mid-sentence at the sight of Harry.

The entire group came to a halt and what had been a sea of flapping black robes settled to hang in silent folds at their sides.

"Hallo," said Harry as he leaned against the wall; he'd been waiting for the first year DADA class to finish. "All done with your finals?"

They nodded in unison.

"You were really good on Sunday, Mr. Potter," ventured the first boy, his voice cracking with nerves. After all, it wasn't everyday a Hufflepuff first year had the opportunity to chat it up with the winning Seeker, Quidditch star, Head Boy, The Chosen One.

"Thanks."

"How do you stay on your broom flying straight up and down like that?" asked the little witch.

"And so fast!" added another.

"Oh, it just takes some practice," Harry shrugged.

"Madame Hooch's class is my favorite," chimed the red-haired boy, his pout now gone. "She's taught us loads this year and I'm gonna do just that!"

"Do just what?"

"Practice my flying — everyday this summer. Then, when I'm old enough, I'm gonna try out for our Quidditch team!"

"What position?" Harry rarely had an opportunity to chat with the youngsters of the other houses. Standing here now, he found their innocent enthusiasm engaging.

"Seeker, just like you!"

The dinner chime sounded.

"You guys better hurry or you'll miss dinner."

"Is it okay to call you Harry?"

"Sure it is."

"Well then, bye Harry! Have a great summer!"

"You too. Bye."

They all waved and hurried off down the hall. Harry chuckled to himself and wondered if he'd ever been that small. But his smile slid away when he remembered the reason for his being in this neck of the castle at this time of the day.

Remus had just started up the stairs to his office when Harry stepped into the room. "Remus?"

The harried looking wizard turned in surprise. "Harry. What an unexpected pleasure."

"Do you have a moment?"

"Of course I do. Please, come in." Lupin set down the stack of tests. "Congratulations on winning the Cup this year. I heard you did a magnificent job on Sunday."

Harry had crossed the room but stopped just shy of the podium. He grasped either side, subconsciously using it as a sort of barrier. "Thanks. Yeah, it's especially nice having the win our final year."

"Will you be staying at the castle this summer?" Remus had actually hoped this might be the case, thinking that perhaps with everyone gone he would finally be able to have some one on one time with Harry and work on bridging the huge gap between them.

"Uh, no. I've got other plans."

His hopeful anticipation died behind his forced smile. "The Burrow, no doubt."

"Maybe, for a bit … later on." Harry was getting antsy. He hadn't come here to talk about Quidditch or summertime plans. "Look, uh … I wanted to thank you for what you did."

Remus wasn't certain to what Harry was referring; was he being facetious about what Remus _hadn't_ done — all of Harry's life? "What did I do?"

"What do you mean, 'what did I do'?" Harry let go of the podium and held out his hands. "Everyone's been talking about it the past two weeks - you know, fighting that Bicorn … saving Professor Snape's life."

"Oh that," he sighed. "Why would you thank me for that?"

Down went the hands. Harry hadn't expected that question and he suddenly felt defensive. "It's just that he … well, he's helped me a lot the past couple of years and we're friends, that's all."

"There's no need to be defensive."

"I'm not being defensive," Harry said defensively.

"Is something going on? Is this why you were down in dungeons at the beginning of term?"

Here again was another unexpected tack in the conversation.

Harry tried to recall what Severus had taught him concerning verbal tactics, but somehow at this very instance — all that advice escaped him. "Where I go and what I do is none of your business!"

"I wasn't trying to pry! I just want to be your friend!"

"My friend?" Harry's yelled. "My friend?" he repeated, even louder. "Don't you think it's a bit late for that?"

"Please don't say that. If you could just understand …"

"Understand? I'll tell you what I understand!"

Harry stepped out from behind the podium; his emerald eyes were blazing. "I understand that you were never there when I was a kid living in that hell hole!"

All his insecurities and resentment that stemmed from Remus' continued absence poured out as he yelled his pointed questions.

"Why did you leave after third year? Where were you after the Tri-Wizard Tournament? Where were you after Sirius died? Huh?" he pressed, "Huh?"

The fury being thrown at him left Remus shaken. "Harry please, let me explain."

"Save it for someone else!" Shocked at himself and where his simple 'thank you' had wound up, Harry turned on his heel and marched straight out of the classroom.

~SH~

"You know I want Potter to stay in the apartment arranged for him," said Rufus Scrimgeour as he leaned back in his heavy leather chair and stared across his desk at Dumbledore, Shacklebolt and Robards. "It will be a perfect lure for You Know Who."

"I repeat Minister, once you hear the details of our plan …"

"All right then," the Minister yielded, "what is this great plan you've come up with?"

Albus turned to Robards. "Would you begin Gawain?"

The Head of the Auror department cleared his throat. "First of all, we plan to use the intended apartment, but it won't be Potter staying there."

"Oh really? Just whom did you have in mind?"

"An imposter."

That got the Minister's attention. "Go on."

"I have two Aurors who are willing to take Pollyjuice potion so that they can stand in for Potter."

"Two?"

"They'll alternate, as this might become a very long assignment."

"Continue."

"A direct Floo will be set up in one of the auxiliary rooms next to my office devoted solely for transport to and from the apartment. Additionally, the room will be the site for Potter to Port-Key directly to his actual residence. Since his Auror classes are located near my office, he can report to this room at the end of each day and Port-Key to the dwelling in Cambridge. At the same time, my Auror will Floo to the apartment."

"You Know Who is already aware of Potter's plans to attend Auror School and that we want him to stay near the Ministry," interjected Shacklebolt. "Later this summer, we'll have Snape leak information identifying the exact location. Once classes begin and the fake Potter begins turning up at this flat on a regular basis, we believe You Know Who will send in his Death Eaters to abduct the young man."

"Sounds like you'd be signing your Auror to a death sentence."

"Not at all," chimed Dumbledore. "The Auror on duty will have a Locatus charmed coin with him at all times. It will be triggered as soon as he is abducted and will in turn activate a homing beacon."

"The homing beacon," Robards took over, "will guide my awaiting contingent of Aurors to wherever the fake Potter has been taken. And that will in turn …"

"Lead us to the Fastness," Scrimgeour finished the sentence with anticipation. "This is a marvelous idea!"

"We thought you'd think so."

"All right, I'll go along with this plan if you can justify all this nonsense about Potter living in Cambridge. What in Merlin's name is that all about?"

"Rufus," Albus said in a smoothing tone of voice. "Harry has been held virtually captive at Hogwarts the past two years. He simply wants to live his life."

"But why Cambridge?"

"One of his good friends, a Miss Hermione Granger will be attending Oxford this fall."

He paused long enough to pull out his tin of lemon drops and pop one in his mouth. "There's a small cottage located just outside the city, which has been in my family for generations. It's protected under a Fidelius charm and I thought it might provide a safe haven for Harry and his friends."

"Dumbledore is the Secret Keeper," interjected Shacklebolt. "It's out of the way … You Know Who wouldn't be so apt to go looking for Potter in Cambridge …"

The Minister held up his hand. "All right, you've convinced me. We'll use the apartment in London for the sting operation and Potter can stay with his friends in Cambridge."

Dumbledore smiled, "Thank you Minister. Harry will be very pleased to hear this."

~SH~

Neville entered the boys' dorm and paused at the sight of Harry, lying on his bed staring up fixedly at the ceiling, "How come you didn't come down for dinner?"

"Wasn't hungry."

"Somethin' wrong?"

"No."

"Oh." Harry obviously didn't want to talk about whatever was bothering him, so Neville changed the subject. "Hey, did you find your amulet?"

During Sunday's match, while executing one of his vertical dives to try to catch the Snitch, Harry had somehow lost his amulet.

"No, I tried summoning it but it didn't come. I don't what happened to it," he replied and noticed that Neville had put on some cologne. "Hot date?"

"Yeah, somethin' like that; there's a big end of year party in the Ravenclaw common-room. Why don't you come? It'll be fun."

Harry sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, "Nah, I can't. I have my training final in just a bit, but thanks for the invite."

He went over and looked out the window; there were students strolling about and sitting on the lawn. The reflection off the lake mirrored the peach hued sky tinted from the sun on the distant horizon. Even from this side of the glass, he could almost feel the lazy weight of calm that graced this summer's eve.

It was the last week of school and there was an easy mood about the castle. Exams were finished and the last Quidditch match had been played. The specially arranged graduation ceremony would take place the next day, Saturday, followed by the Leaving Feast and then — everyone would board the Hogwarts Express on Sunday to return home for their summer vacation.

"What the hell are you doin' in here?" asked Ron as he, Dean and Seamus filed into the room.

He had to step aside to skirt Harry, who was now making a beeline for his trunk, "Getting ready for my final."

"But you missed dinner."

"I wasn't hungry."

Ron knew what that meant. The conversation with Lupin had probably not gone well. He'd get the details later, when they were alone.

"Too bad you can't come with us to the party," Dean commented.

"You're goin too?"

"Everyone is," added Seamus.

Feigning remorse, Harry sighed as he slipped on his robe and then headed for the door. "This is my final exam. I can't miss it." He stepped outside the room but called back just before he closed the door, "Have fun."

Neville stared at the now closed door as the others began to change their clothes for the party. "Why is it that Harry always gets the short end of the stick?"

"I know," added Dean. "He's had to stay here at the castle for almost two years."

"We should do something fun … you know? I mean, before we all go home," said Seamus from under the shirt he was pulling over his head.

"We could have a party, here … in our common room," suggested Neville.

"No. I mean something crazy. Harry deserves to do something really fun."

"You know," Ron creased his eyebrows together in thought, "that's a great idea, and it should be just the five of us."

"Yeah, you're right. So what should we do?"

"Dunno, but we can talk about it more at the party," replied Ron. "Come on, let's get going."

~SH~

Harry spotted the stunning spell as it shot out from the wand just visible at the edge of an old wooden door to his left; he rolled to the ground to avoid being hit and called out, "Expelliarmus!"

The assailant's wand flew up, arcing high above the young wizard who was now already looking ahead for the next challenge.

From his vantage point, Severus watched Harry make his way through the gantlet. Surmounting one challenge after another, his protégé had dodged spell fire, avoided booby traps and defeated a string of simulated Death Eaters.

It had taken nearly forty minutes for the teen to finally reach the end of the gage, his training final. He'd had to use both defensive and offensive magic to complete his task, casting charms, spells, jinxes and hexes — sometimes combining two forms simultaneously, erecting temporary wards, employing strategy and tactics, and yes — even some hand to hand combat.

Exhausted, winded and bleeding from a cut on his right cheek, Harry waited for the next opponent to appear but instead he heard his Professor call out, "Congratulation, Mr. Potter. You passed."

Harry whirled and looked up to see Severus descend a nearby balcony. "Passed? That's it?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath. "Don't I even get an Exceeds Expectations?"

Severus walked toward the teen until they stood face to face, that was when he noticed the cut on the flushed cheek.

"Episky," Severus incanted then ran his thumb lightly over the now healed wound to wipe away the trickle of blood. "You passed with an Outstanding," he said and smiled. "You should be very proud of what you accomplished tonight."

"It's all because of you and everything you've taught me."

Severus slid his hand down the lithe back. "I think this deserves a celebration."

"Oh yeah?" Harry responded coyly as he pocketed his wand. "What did you have in mind?"

Severus turned to face the room. "We need to see the Ponte Vecchio."

The Room of Requirement immediately transformed itself from the dark alleyway into the famous Italian, Medieval bridge.

"This is that place you took me on my birthday," Harry extolled and then inhaled a lungful of the air, now humid and heady with scent from the lazy river that moved slowly beneath the shop laden bridge.

The ceiling had become a night sky filled with stars and an opalescent moon that hung heavy above the horizon.

"Oh Sev," Harry sighed as he pressed himself against the tall wizard, "this is so beautiful. Thank …" his gratitude was cut short when Severus began to kiss and caress the nape of his neck.

He melted under the amorous advance and his mind began to spin as the kisses moved up his throat.

The roused teen turned and pulled Severus down for a full mouthed kiss. They held each other tightly as their kiss deepened and their tongues swirled. They kissed and kissed for the most lusciously longest length of time, each man growing harder with every passing second.

Harry found an open path and slid his hand into the left front pocket of Severus' pants, and from behind this barrier of cloth he finally took hold of that hard length he'd so longed desired.

He began to stroke it.

"Clothes … stay … on," whispered Severus between his kisses.

"Uh huh," Harry uttered as he stroked Sev's full shaft up and down, pausing sometimes at the sensitive tip and then delving further into the deep well of cloth, until he reached the tender spheres.

"No …" Severus sighed.

"Forget it Professor," Harry whispered and pressed his smaller frame against the long torso, pushing Severus against a cool plastered wall. "Think of this as my graduation present."

"But …"

"And I'm not gonna stop …" which he didn't. He stroked and toyed and kissed as he pressed his own want against that endless thigh. He paced his persistence and continued his endeavors until amidst his own burning satisfaction, they both came.

Harry slumped blissfully against Severus. "Mmmm," he hummed and looked up into those delicious dark eyes. "I wish you didn't have to go … we could stay here all night."

"You know I can't," Severus said with regret and added a gentle kiss. "I have to finish my duties at the Fastness, but then …"

"… we'll Port-Key to your villa," Harry interjected.

"… for a _proper_ celebration," Severus finished.

They kissed once more then Harry laid his head against Severus' chest and relished in the sound of his steady heartbeat. "I can't believe we get to spend the whole summer together, just the two of us," he said and then turned so that he now sat on Severus' lap. He leaned in close and gave Sev _that_ look, "And I wanna fuck you every – single – day."

Severus succumbed to those green eyes and that sultry tone.

Before Harry knew what happened, his jeans had vanished and all he had on was his school robe; he was lying on his back, on something soft and Severus was stroking him.

"Oh God," he sighed. He'd never been touched with such skill. The timing, the changes in pressure, the way Severus tantalized one area of his cock and then moved to another. He'd bring Harry almost to climax and then ease off just enough to hold him there.

Over and over Severus made him ride this wave of ecstasy and as he slowly worked his magic, Harry felt a curious feeling start to build. It began in his toes or maybe it was his heart, or somewhere in between - he couldn't tell. It was so enticing and yet as it strengthened – it became ominous and even a bit frightening. In time he felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice; it beckoned him to dive in but at the same time it was too powerful to face.

"Let go Harry," Sev's whispered voice seem to call to him from far away, "let it happen."

Harry trusted Sev and so he relaxed and released himself into the power of his own powerful climax. It was unlike any orgasm he'd ever experienced for this wasn't just a physical release but one that encompassed his very soul.

Through his ecstasy and immense pleasure, his distant joys and sorrows surfaced from somewhere deep inside; they engulfed him and he moaned and moaned as his emotions and rapture swept through him and out of him. Eventually the intense feeling subsided and then diminished until it was totally gone and left the teen feeling raw and completely undone.

Severus pulled Harry close. He carded his fingers through the damp raven hair as he laced the tear stained cheeks with gentle kisses.

"That was so amazing," Harry whispered. "I didn't know it could be like that."

"Are you all right?" asked Severus.

"Yeah," Harry answered and buried his face against Severus' chest. "I'm sorry I cried."

"Don't ever apologize for that Harry," he said and stroked his fingertips up and down the tone back.

They were silent for a while as Severus relished in the moment and Harry tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"There's something I want to tell you."

Harry tensed, "Is something wrong?"

"No. Everything is fine … more than fine," Severus said as he continued his caress. "I want to tell you that I …"

For so long he'd wanted to express his love to Harry, try to explain how much he'd changed because of him but such things were difficult for Severus. "I just want to thank you."

"For what?"

It was a moment before Severus answered, "For helping me to face my demons."

Because of what had happened during his transformation and all the experiences they had shared, Harry knew exactly what Sev was talking about. "I had Helena to help me deal with my demons, but you Sev — you dealt with yours all on your own. I didn't do anything."

"That isn't true Harry. If it hadn't been for you, I would still be that bitter closed off person."

Harry interlaced his fingers with the long elegant ones, stained from years of brewing potions. "We've been through so much, you and me." He looked for a long time into the sable colored eyes; they held no mystery this night, but showed only sincerity — and something else.

"What?" Harry asked. "What are you thinking?"

"I … "Severus tried again but those three little words were so elusive and just beyond his reach. "You mean a great deal to me."

Harry knew how hard it was for Severus to express his innermost feelings.

He reached up and kissed this amazing person, this man whom had brought him to his limits and back again. Someone who had, at one point in time, been a complete mystery to him — but over the years and through their joint struggles, this enigma had somehow become his soul mate.

"I love you too, Sev."

~SH~

_Epilogue_

At the same moment these two wizards were declaring their love for each other, Voldemort stood in the solarium of the King's chamber of the Fastness and stared out over the river to the distant treetops and beyond.

He pulled and twisted his wand through the tips of his boney fingers, thinking and planning how he would go about killing his longtime foe, once he was captured and brought to him.

"Only a few months now Harry Potter … and then you shall die."

_Fin_

Author's note:

This concludes part one in the series 'The Tenacity of Love'. If you've come this far, please take a moment to share your thoughts with me.

The series continues with the sequel 'The Catamite.'

SHaria


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